#but he works in film and bartends

[teethpaste]

yall I am starting to really like the 6’8 guy

We have different senses of humor but I think that’s 1) bc of the 10 year age difference 2) English is his second language

I’ve never (casually) dated anyone where it was so .. easy. Like literally every time we hang out we’re just big time chillin. We just laugh and hook up and watch silly movies and like we’ll talk about ourselves sure but there’s no .. game about it. We don’t text much in between seeing one another. We’ve introduced one another to each others friends.

Last night after we got back I had on a big sweatshirt / no pants / crew socks + we smoked a little and got giggly and I went to go put a record on and he was like “I just have to let you know I can’t stop looking at your calves. You just stood on your tip toes and the way your leg flexes was so cute I know that is silly but I just love noticing these little things about you, you walk about in a way where you don’t seem to notice them but it just stops me and I have to admire”

Which maybe sounds cringe but I thought it was so sweet bc it was like a non sexual comment and he really will just pick up on little things I do or things I notice/ remember. He says I am a good listener which is true.

He’s taking me to the airport for Tokyo? Not even men I was in relationships for 3+ years took me to the airport lol. Normally I have weird rules but I think I am just kind of letting this happen. I’m not ready for a relationship but I like .. whatever this is.

[eraenaa]

I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)

Inspired by the song "I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)" by Taylor Swift

Rafe Cameron x Reader Tag List

Summary: Trust me, I can handle me a dangerous man.

Warnings: Substance Use, Possessiveness, Jealousy, ¿Kinda Toxic Relationship?, Mention of Violence, Mature, 18+, P in V Sex, Shower Sex, Oral Sex (F & M receiving), Fingering, Choking, Boobjob, Filmed Sexual Relations, Not Proofread 

Word Count: 2,372

A/N: Sorry for being MIA finals week was rough and I was kinda burnout hence the almost month long hiatus but Taylor's new album revived me, so maybe expect more works inspired by TTPD songs!

You sat quietly as Rafe rested his warm hand on your thigh. You waited for him to finish his drink as he laughed around with his boys at the bar. Their voice echoed through the establishment, garnering curious glances from the other patrons present. You feel him squeeze your thigh tighter, his little signal that he wanted some affection, maybe a kiss or a touch from you. He turned to you, pupils enlarged from the little pill he took, “Are you bored?” He asked, and you quickly shook your head, placing your hand on the back of his head, and ran your nails gently against his skull. “No, baby,” You murmured and moved to kiss his lips, tasting the brandy on his tongue. Rafe parted from your kiss, looking intently into your eyes to see off you lied; he seemed satisfied enough and returned to his conversations with his friends. 

You hear the offensive joke that Rafe said a bit too loudly and held your breath. Placing your hand on his shoulder, hoping it would snap some sense into him, it usually did. You feel pitying and feared glances pointed towards you. The bartender to your left shook their head and muttered, “God help her,” when they realized you were with Rafe. A man who was notorious for his rage and ill temper. He was often perceived as rash and maybe even psychotic. Perhaps their judgment of him was true… but that is what attracted you to him anyway. You could not help but be intrigued by him and his imposing and reckless demeanor. You were certain you could tame him. You said to yourself, “I can fix him; no, really, I can.” 

He drove the both of you home. A bit of a misjudgment on your part, seeing how intoxicated he was, but there was something thrilling about him taking the reigns while still addled with dopamine and alcohol. There was something seductive in the way his hand would trail upward and upward on your thigh as he raced down the streets of the Outer Banks. But there was something different this night. There was tension in him that did not come from the lust you and him were succumbing to. “What’s wrong?” You asked, taking hold of his arm, caressing it in a way that made gooseflesh rise on his flesh. You bit your lip as his hold on you was tighter; you were certain it would once again leave his mark. “Everyone in that bar was looking at you… they were looking at what’s mine.” He snarled and pressed flat on the gas, making you speed down the streets so carelessly, but you could not find care as that elicited a wave of want in you. “They were only looking…” You trailed, testing to see what reaction it would garner from Rafe. 

You watch him shake his head, his jaw clenching in annoyance. “They were looking at what’s mine. They were practically undressing you with their eyes— imagining stealing you from me,” He gritted as you were nearing home. You voiced your disagreement, but that only seemed to enrage him more. “You enjoyed it, didn’t you, huh? You fucking enjoyed their attention.” Rafe accused, and your eyes darkened at his words. Just as the rage in him burned quickly, it died in a snap. You removed his hold on your thigh and stole away your touch on his arm. You did not wait for him to open the door of the passenger seat for you but instead got out of the confined space you were trapped in and left him. “Baby, wait, I—“ Rafe called, any irritation in his voice gone the moment he realized he had offended you. 

You were nearing your bedroom door, ready to lock him out for the night and repent for his offense, but he caged you in his arms, pulling you close to him. Burying his head at the side of your neck, he offered his apologies. “I’m sorry baby… I just don’t wanna lose you,” You hear his muffled boys. Smirking to yourself as you actually got an apology from him. From all the stories you heard of Rafe, ranging from his family to his friends and even his past flings, not one of them got an apology or anything that resembled half of it from him. But here he was, saying sorry over and over again, waiting for your reply. You kept silent for a while longer, and you felt him move over to the front of you, trying to kiss your lips, but you moved your head to the side. You bit your lip as you hear him puff, surprised by his following action. You watched Rafe sink down on his knees and hold you tightly against him, burying his face in your abdomen, his apologies spewing out from his mouth as if you were a god to whom he offered his prayers, pleading to be heard. You sighed and ran your hand through his hair, hearing him soothingly hum and burrow his head deeper into your abdomen.  

You were about to urge him to stand, but you were rendered frozen, and your breathing hitch when you feel his fingers take hold of your dress, hiking it higher. “Rafe,” you called as his lips trailed kisses on your exposed skin, his breath teasing your core that had already been aching for him. “I’m sorry,” He said once more, and you could only sigh as he placed a kiss between your thighs. You held tightly onto him as he lapped your folds, showing you just how sorry he was. “Rafe… Fuck, Rafe,” you called as he inserted a finger, but you were already on the verge of an orgasm by just the way his nose burrowed into your nubbin. “Do you forgive me, my baby?” Rafe asked, and you could only moan out your agreement and hear him hiss as you pulled on his hair and came down hard on his fingers and face. 

You hummed as you woke the next day with Rafe tracing hearts on your face; he had been watching you sleep. You gazed at him through the hazy sight of the fresh morning, “You look so pretty when you sleep,” Rafe said softly, and you smiled up at him. Gone in his system were the substances that were his ruin, but he could not deny. You quite liked him in this state, but you knew he would rather have his mood be altered by opioids and any other drugs that he believed would aid him. It won’t. And you just need to change that outlook of his or at least find another drug that would not be his ruin. 

“You’re mine,” Rafe gritted in your ear, his arms wrapped tightly around you as he realized every bastard at the party was staring at you. “I’m yours,” You repeated to calm the rage in him. He did not consume anything harsh or damnable per your request, but you were starting to rethink your decision because apparently Rafe, without his usual pick me up, was rather more paranoid and frantic. Every little interaction you have with the opposite sex pushes him closer over the edge. “Rafe,” you sighed as he stepped away, challenging a guy whose gaze had been flying to you the whole night. “The fuck you staring at, huh! Do you want a fucking fight, bro?! Stop staring at my gi—“ Rafe screamed, and you pulled at him with all of your might for him to face you and save the innocent man from being beaten up to a pulp. You turn to Rafe’s friends, urging them to help, them being the able-bodied ones to escort Rafe outside to calm down. 

You stood before him as he sat by the ledge of a planter box. His head was in his hands as he tried to calm his ragged breathing. You stood silently as he took out a box of cigarettes and hastily lit a stick. “Stop looking at me like that,” Rafe spat, and you furrowed your brows at his words. “Like what?” You asked, and Rafe shook his head and took a long drag of a cigarette. “Like you’re disappointed! I know that look all too well,” He scoffed, and you took in a deep breath, stepping closer to him. Squatting down to meet him at eye level, placing a kiss on his cheek, and your hand found home at the back of his head again, running your fingers through his hair, noting how he would lean into your touch. “I’m not disappointed,” you say in earnest, but Rafe scoffs at your words. “You are. Don’t lie to me.” He gritted and threw the bud of his cigaret onto the ground, the glowing embers slowly dying down like the rage in him. 

“I never lie to you,” You say softly, placing your hold on the side of his face. “I’m yours, Rafe,” you say softly. “You’re mine.” He answered back. “Exactly. Then why are you trying to fight those others who are completely insignificant to us?” You ask softly, brushing your thumb across his brow, watching as his eyes fluttered close and a sigh left his lips. “Because I know what they want. I know they want what’s mine.” He gritted, tensing in anger once more, his fists clenching and warning danger. “But they won’t get to have it, won’t they?” You asked and stared deeply into his ocean eyes as they opened once more. “No. Never.” He swore, and you smiled, placing a kiss on his lips. 

Kissing you was the greatest high Rafe felt. The high he now realized was the only one he’d want to chase. Nothing chemically and artificially induced could compare to your lips. “Let’s go back inside,” Rafe said after your kiss had sedated his rage. “On one condition,” You said and stood your ground as he tried to pull you back into the direction of the party. You pulled him to you, flushing your bodies, and returned your hand to caress his troubled head. “No more invoking fights? Stop glaring at those guys?” You asked and watched as he frowned at your words. “I… I can probably do no more fighting— but baby, come on, they keep staring at you and—“ You shook your head and interrupted him. 

“Be a good boy tonight, and later… I’ll do what you’ve been asking me to do since last month,” You hindered your grin as you watched Rafe’s jaw turn slack, his eyes now intoxicated and dilated with the thought of you. “What do you say?” You asked, batting your lashes at him, trailing your fingers against his forearm, your eyes already catching a glance of the dent in his trousers. “I’ll be a fucking angel if you want.” He almost growled. And you let him usher you back to a party with a smile beaming on your face. 

Rafe kept true to his word. There was practically a halo around his head for the rest of the night. Foregoing his pilled and powdered remedies, even tossed out the intoxicating liquid in his glass. You thought miracles never happened, but Rafe even let you join your friends on the dance floor without him. You saw as he reigned in the hellish thoughts in him as men around danced by your side. Instead, he stood still in his spot, his mind on the thought of heaven you’ll present him if he played nice. 

You, too, kept true to your words. You were on your knees, your hands pushing your tits together, and in between them was Rafe’s cock. A video camera by your side as Rafe had been begging you almost everyday for a home video together. Reasoning that ‘it would be a reminder of you when you are away.’ And the thought of you is the only thing that gets him on. “Fuck, baby— god, you’re so good. How are you this good?” Rafe groaned as you fucked him with your tits. It was the best reward for him, you rarely gave him head, and this was the first time you ever fucked anyone this way. Rafe fisted the sheets as you wrapped your lips around the tip of his cock again. He moaned out your name as you took him deeper into your mouth, the sound of you gagging on his cock spurring him on. But before he could come, before he could reach a different and higher level of high he always sought, you pulled away. 

“Baby… oh, baby, please, you can’t do this to me,” he almost begged, his eyes in a daze at the sight of you messy from sucking his cock. You crawled upwards and hung from his lips, him already expecting a kiss. “Fuck me in the shower,” Was all you said before you hastily dispread to the bathroom and turned the faucet on. It took a few moments for Rafe to process your words, but once he did. He quickly stood, took the camera, and positioned it to point toward you, who was already soaking wet. 

Rafe was quick to push you against the glass shower door, already excited to watch the video of you and your tits against the glass. “Yes… oh, god, like that,” You cried as Rafe mercilessly pounded behind you. He gathered your hair and gripped it back, eliciting a burning yet pleasurable sensation. “You’re always so prim and proper… but looked at you, you fuck like a whore,” Rafe gritted, and your eyes rolled back as he positioned his thrust to hit the spot that made your words incoherent. “You like that, huh, baby? You like it when I fuck you, dumb?” He asked, not expecting a reply but rather your moans. Rafe relinquished his hold on your hair and instead gripped your throat. Pounding harder into you as he felt you clench tighter around him, your body shaking and on the precipice of orgasm. “Mine. Mine, mine, mine.” Rafe gritted out as he, too, was close. “Yours. All yours, Rafe.” You cried as you came around him. Panting his name as he clung in the high that was you. 

I screamed when I first listened to the song that inspired this fic, bc Rafe was the most prominent thing that it conjured in my mind.

[gothcsz]

imagine javier peña as a pornstar holy shit-

gif by @underbetelgeuse | Pornstar!Javier x Pornstar!OFC x Fem!Reader | ~4.5k wc | Explicit. Minors DNI. | Read Part 2 Here | Series Masterlist |

Summary: You're a camerawoman that shoots pornos. Javi's the pornstar you can't stand. So why is it that you're so affected by him during this honeymoon scene between him and his co-star?

Tags: smut, voyeurism(?), unprotected p in v sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), oral (m receiving), no use of Y/N, reader doesn't fuck javi in this i'm sorry, yes it's steve murphy as the sound guy, unbeta'd asf we're here for the dirty vibes, other shit i’m probably forgetting.

A/N: well my beloved, this spiraled into something i wasn't expecting but i hope you enjoy, hehe 🖤 shoutout to my lovely mutual @almostempty for summoning the threesome demon that inspired me to finish this.

You’re not a prude. Sex isn’t aversive to you. And you suppose it can’t be considering what it is that you do for work.

A camerawoman for dirty films. Not a director, just the lucky girl that points and shoots. It’s not a bad gig, even though sometimes you do wish it paid a little more. Then you’d be able to drop your bartending job.

Recording people fucking all day then tending the bar all night, you rarely ever have time for yourself or any of the hobbies that you’ve attempted to start but haven’t nurtured simply because there aren’t enough hours in the day. 

During your downtime, you’re either sleeping or tending to your shit apartment that’s conveniently located above Lucky’s–– your night job. The only reason you can afford to live in Los Angeles is because of the cheap rent there and well, beggars can’t be choosers.

You hit the button on the elevator, currently taking you to the sixth floor of the surprisingly nice hotel the production company has booked a room in for tonight’s shoot.

Once you make it to room 606, you’re greeted by Steve, the sound guy. “You’re early.”

“Daddy got us a new toy and I wanted to test it out before we shot.” There’s a playful smile on your lips as you carefully show off the brand new camera bag with the device inside.

Steve whistles lowly, stepping aside to let you into the room. Looks very typical. Nice, grand bed in the center of the space. Desk, television stand, blah blah blah, and a bar cart.

You suavely make your way towards it, eyeing the small bottles that littered the glass top.

“Surprised you even got that thing. He’s as cheap as they come.”

You shrug, uncapping the small Fireball plastic bottle and swiftly downing it, the burn familiar and taste delicious. “I know, but considering how much money we’re making him, maybe he’s starting to realize our worth.”

You both share a knowing look then laugh. As if. That man would find any way to cut a corner. It’s honestly surprising how well his pornos do.

“Who are we shooting today?” You ask casually, beginning to set out the camera and all its attachments neatly on the desk.

“Lexxie Gold and…” He trails off, lanky form walking over to where his equipment is half set up, pulling out a tattered notebook that he flips through until he lands on the intended page. “Javier Peña.”

You can’t help the grimace that crosses over your face. Great. You’ve shot Peña a few times, each with a story that reminds you how much you dislike the guy.

Sure he seems to be a good fuck— but man was he cocky, annoying, and so damn full of himself.

Just because you have the biggest dick in the world, doesn’t mean you have to act like one.

“How fun.” Your sarcasm isn’t lost on the blonde man across from you and he doesn’t press— knowing you don’t get along with the star.

You curiously start messing around with the camera, flitting through its different settings, taking random videos of Steve as he finishes setting up while you chastise him playfully from the other side. 

Your fucking around is disrupted by a heavy knock on the door then the familiar voice of your boss and the director, Robbie, and you let him in with a brief hey.

The scene is simple enough: a honeymoon. How romantic. He wants to focus on close ups, hence why he bought the new camera.

“Gotta show them how pretty and erotic it really is.”

“I don’t really think they’re watching for the riveting cinematography.”

He shoots you a look and you raise your arms defensively before shrugging your shoulders and getting back to making some last minute camera adjustments.

Steve helps you finish dressing the place up, making the hotel room look like a lover’s getaway. Rose petals everywhere, moody lighting, it helps that the sun has fully set to really set the scene.

Not long after do Lexxie and Javier show up, his arm thrown around her shoulders, seemingly having met up on the ride up the elevator. She’s giggling over something he’s whispered in her ear, pushing at his chest playfully.

You suppose that’s why he’s so good at what he does— that goddamn charisma that seems to charm the underwear off of any woman, hell even some men, that cross his path. 

His chemistry with his co-stars is what’s made him so popular in the industry. Aside from his appearance: cut jaw, full and fitting pornstache, golden lean body and nice cock; Javier ate pussy like his life depended on it and fucked women into oblivion— he usually ended up leaving set with one on his arm.

You remember one time his prowess had been so magnetizing, that he ended up taking the makeup artist home. The fucking makeup artist.

But things with you are different, somehow. You can feel it, he can too. Maybe it’s because you’re a no bullshit type of person that just shows up to do your job then you’re out.

In the beginning, he had attempted to flirt with you, but you weren’t really in the market to reciprocate.

A shock to anyone who meets him because what do you mean you didn’t jump at the chance to be charmed by Javier Peña?

You don’t mix business with pleasure, no matter if the pleasure seems to outweigh the business. 

And since then he’s made it his life’s mission, it feels like, to push your buttons until you’re lit up like a fucking soundboard.

The flirting, petty comments, sometimes weaponized incompetence just to get you to move the camera into a more desirable position for him— yeah it really irks you.

With it being a simple, smaller shoot today: it’s only you, the director, Steve and the two stars in the room.

As Lexxie finishes doing some last minute touch ups in the bathroom, Steve and Robbie head out to the balcony for a quick smoke, leaving you in the room with Javier as he checks his appearance in the full-length mirror by your equipment.

The shoot is starting with them already half undressed, so he’s got an unbuttoned white collared shirt on, his toned chest on full display, with a pair of dress pants hanging low on his hips. He’s not wearing underwear, so you get a peek of the prominent V of his pelvis and the enticing trail of dark hair leading below the fabric.

Goddamn him.

“Lookin’ like somethin’ crawled up your ass and died, sweetheart. All good?” He asks, no real concern in his voice but the typical condescending tone he uses when he speaks to you.

You ignore him, wiping off the lens of your camera, lowkey wanting to down another small bottle of liquor. 

“It’s rude not to speak when you’re spoken to.”

“What do you want me to say? I’m not exactly thrilled to have your balls slapping against my new camera.”

He smirks at the bite in your voice, “With the amount of times you’ve seen my sack, I figured you’d be used to that by now.” You roll your eyes and bite your tongue because he’s right and that wasn’t the best retort you could have given him.

You’ll admit, sometimes his attractiveness throws you off and that only pisses you off further.

“New camera, huh?” His eyes meet yours in the reflection, thick brows raising in amusement, “Honored to be the one to christen it. ‘Specially with Lexxie.” He whistles lowly, brown eyes flickering over to the cracked door of the bathroom, “She’s a sexy little thing, isn’t she?”

You ignore him again so you don’t get tongue tied by trying to outwit him, breathing out a sigh of relief when Steve and your boss reenter and the older man begins to throw out orders for everyone to follow.

“I want this to feel real. Aside from the close ups, I need some filthy, dirty talk. Sell it, make those horny bastards bust their load over the believable newlyweds.”

Lexxie is leaning against the doorway to the bathroom, a beautiful white lingerie set on her curvy body, obscured by a silk robe.

You’re both jealous of her for looking so goddamn pretty and jealous of Javier for having the pleasure of getting to fuck her.

“We’re not amateurs, Robbie.” 

Okay, so maybe Javier isn’t all that bad and you do tend to overreact sometimes.

It’s just hard not to, he has a penchant for getting under your skin like no other. Kind of like the annoying boys you used to go to high school with that would relentlessly tease you for being you.

No time to project your insecurities. You’re at work, you remind yourself, listening intently as your boss turns to you and begins to describe how he wants you to shoot the scene.

Intimate. Very. Intimate.

He yells action and the scene begins to play out naturally.

Lexxie stands by the window, her white silk robe loosely tied around her waist, revealing glimpses of her smooth, brown skin. The moonlight accentuates her curves, making her look like a vision of desire against the backdrop of the shimmering city.

Javier watches her from the bed, gaze dark with anticipation. He can’t take his eyes off her, the way the silk clings to her body, hinting at the treasures beneath.

She turns to him, a playful smile dancing on her lips, and slowly walks toward the bed, her hips swaying seductively with each step.

Steve holds the boom mic above them, out of the camera’s view, as you follow Lexxie’s movements with careful precision, zooming in on her long legs then panning up to her thick thighs.

As she reaches the bed, she unties the belt of her robe, letting it fall open. Javier licks his lips, the outline of his cock prominent against the fabric of his pants.

She climbs onto the bed, straddling his hips, her hands gliding over his chest.

“I’ve been waiting all day to get you alone.” Her voice is a sultry whisper as she traces her fingers along Javier’s jawline. “I can’t believe we’re finally here, just you and me.”

There’s a lopsided smile on his lips, large hands sliding around her waist, pulling her closer. “You look incredible, baby. Couldn’t take my eyes off you all night. My pretty wife.”

She leans in, her breath warm against his ear. “Tell me what you want. I want to hear you say it.” Her words are a teasing challenge, her teeth biting down on his earlobe.

He groans softly, hands roaming over her curves. “I want to touch you, taste you. Feel you shiver under my hands, hear you moan my name.” His voice drops to a near-growl. “I want to make you mine, over and over again.”

You’re on the bed with them, knees digging into the comforter as you hold the camera at eye level, the small screen that extends from it giving it that grain that makes it look even more erotic. 

All of this is beginning to feel too intimate but you block that out, even if it’s fucking hard to. This is what your boss wanted, anyways.

You feel your clit pulsing, heat pooling at your core as you watch them and it’s infuriating.

She smiles, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she kisses him deeply, her tongue dancing with his and you make sure to get a good shot of it. “Then take me. Show me why I married you.” She pulls back slightly, her gaze locked with his.

He pulls her closer, his lips capturing hers in another passionate and hungry kiss. They’re absolutely unbothered by your presence.

“I’m going to worship every inch of you.” His tone is thick with promise, bringing his hand up to wrap around her neck. “I want to hear you scream for me, break that little throat then soothe it with my cum.”

Your breath hitches at his words and for the life of you, you don’t understand why you’re being so affected by this.

While faint, he hears your reaction and you don’t miss the subtle smirk that tugs at those pink, pouty lips of his. 

“Yes. I want you. I need you. Fuck me like it’s our last night on earth.” Her words are a plea, filled with raw desire and feigning love.

A little corny, but what the hell, that’s half the appeal of these things anyway.

Their bodies press together, the heat between them palpable that you can feel it from where you are.

Her fingers tangled in Javi’s hair as she deepens the kiss, her body moving rhythmically against his.

The passion they exacerbate is undeniable, an electric charge that ropes you in as you move the camera closer, igniting your every nerve.

His skilled fingers move to pull down the cups of her bra, freeing her breasts and he uses his hold on her neck to tilt her back slightly, leaning down to wrap his lips around her stiff nipple. He suckles on it, drawing out a moan from the star on his lap as his wet tongue darts out to flick rapidly against the pebbled flesh.

He does the same to the other, you following his movements and your own nipples hardening, the friction of them rubbing up against your sports bra with each deep breath you take enough to gradually turn you on even more.

After lavishing her chest with his attention, leaving her tits glistening with a layer of his spit, he goes to kiss her again and they share more of that porny dialogue that usually makes you cringe.

But not today.

Not as you watch how they touch up on each other, the way he slowly releases his hold on her neck and she pushes the shirt off his shoulders then shimmies down his body, pulling his pants down and revealing his cock.

You’ve seen it dozens of times, it shouldn’t phase you (just as how he reminded you of earlier), but fuck— with the way you’re so heated right now by unofficially being part of this twosome, you can’t help how your mouth floods with saliva at the sight.

It’s got just the right amount of hair surrounding it, looking real heavy and swollen with arousal as she wraps her fingers around it.

You move down to get a good POV shot, bending at the waist and accidentally wagging your ass in his face. 

While Lexxie begins to blow him, showcasing her skill to the camera, Javier’s eyes are glued to your ass and how good it looks in the jean shorts you’re wearing.

You can feel it, his stare heavy as lead, as one of his hands comes down to make a makeshift ponytail of the woman’s curly hair while the other just barely grazes the back of your thighs.

If you weren’t so hyper aware of his touch, you would have missed it. Your hips involuntarily moving subtly and you play it off as you shuffling to get more comfortable to record the oral he’s currently receiving. 

Sounds of her gagging and his grunts fill the room. Steve’s brows are furrowed in concentration, picking up every single thing and you pray that he doesn’t hear how ragged your breathing has become.

You didn’t even notice it until the camera in your hand started shaking just a little.

So unprofessional, this shoot is gonna haunt you for weeks.

But Robbie doesn’t seem to mind, and you wonder if you’re the problem with how Steve and him seem to be so locked in while you’re sitting here, all hot and bothered, trying not to think of Javier despite seeing his spit slick cock slipping in and out of her mouth so filthily.

The director orders them to switch and you try not to be too hasty when you move off the bed, allowing the couple to do as they’re told.

You avoid Javier’s eyes, the ones looking for yours, as he settles in between Lexxie’s spread legs.

He comments on how wet she is, tongue darting out to lick his lips as he begins to kiss her over the lacy fabric of her fancy panties.

There’s an obvious wet spot from both her slick and his saliva. You alternate, panning the camera from his ministrations, up her gorgeous body, then to capture the look of pure fucking bliss on her face.

She squeezes her tits, moaning obscenely as he pulls her underwear to the side and begins to suck and lick at her pussy— wet sounds of his lips smacking against her folds and clit has your own cunt dripping and the rough fabric of your jean shorts rubbing against your underwear is just embarrassingly pleasurable. 

It’s like you can feel his tongue on you as it flicks over her flesh, her arousal coating his face and dampening his mustache.

Javier begins to finger her and the director urges you to get a closer shot of it, which you do and it has you so close to their intimacy; you can smell her pussy.

Your thighs clench.

She cums all over his fingers and he pulls back, traversing up her body slowly, his lips marking their path until he’s kissing her messily again before shoving those sinewy digits into her mouth, and she expertly cleans them off, not breaking eye contact with him.

You lick your lips, practically tasting her, and they’re directed to start off in missionary then end in doggy.

“Put her head on your lap, get a shot of her tits down with his torso in view. Lexxie, scream his name like it’s the best cock you’ve ever had inside you.”

“Won’t be hard to do. It is the best I’ve had.”

You roll your eyes at the smug smile that tugs at Javier’s lips at her words, that statement enough to calm you down as you shift into the optimal position, her head on your lap as Javier strokes his dick and rids her of her panties, leaving her with the cups of her bra still below her tits and the garter belt on her waist.

The white stockings brush up against his thighs as he hitches her legs up on his hips.

He begins to fuck her, each thrust sending her further up your body and you grip onto your camera as you zoom in on the way her body moves, her back arching and needy whimpers pushing past her plump, glossy lips.

Your eyes are glued to the small screen, his toned body looking like a sculpture and a thin sheen of sweat making him glow.

Yeah, this tape is going to fucking sell.

“Get over here and get a shot of her pretty pussy when I push her legs up.” Javier instructs you and you can’t help but drop your jaw at the audacity.

There’s an insult on the tip of your tongue, waiting to be lashed out but Robbie agrees and you fight the urge to fling the camera at him.

Javier senses your irritation and fucking smirks, but you pay it no mind (or at least try not to) as you move away from Lexxie, off the bed, and beside him.

He spreads her thighs and pushes her knees up to her chest, her pussy on full view as his cock continues to piston in and out of her.

It really is so hot. Usually, some stars would have to use lube to get the process going but not Javier. Never Javier. 

He eats pussy so messily and knows just how to treat his girls, they’re usually fucking drenched and dripping by the time he’s ready to fuck them. He doesn’t need anything artificial to help him out.

Lexxie is moaning and spitting out pure filth as he continues to fuck her, you’re doing a good job at capturing it all. 

Suddenly, Javi leans over to whisper into your ear.

“Bet you’d look just as pretty like this, nena.”

Your breath hitches in your throat, camera once more shaking slightly in your grasp and your skin warms. What the hell is his deal?

And why does the idea of being spread out like this for him suddenly so fucking enticing?

Your eyes flicker over to Steve, who both watched that little interaction happen and picked it up on his mic, an amused expression on his face.

You shoot him a look that basically translates to Don’t and he shakes his head lightly, holding back a snicker.

They’re directed to switch again, both stars getting closer to their orgasms, and you use this a chance to take a step back and fucking collect yourself. No doubt that your cunt is an absolute mess right now.

Maybe you’ll rub one out before going in tonight. That is if you have the time. Maybe if you’re not so tired after, you’ll pick up one of the men at the bar and use him to fuck Javier Peña out of your mind.

Now bent over, her ass and pussy are on full display. Javier, once more acting like he’s the goddamn director, moves aside so you can get a good shot of it. You do, bristling as he brushes against you whenever he gets back into position behind her, entering her pussy in one swift motion and beginning to fuck the shit out of her.

Jesus. Christ. It must be because of how fucking weird this shoot has been but man, is he giving it to her good.

A few delicious spanks are brought down to her ass, his large palm making the meaty flesh jiggle and he grunts loudly at how it feels against his dick.

There’s more dirty talk, him telling her how good this pussy feels and that it belongs to him now. Her doubling down and telling him that he’s the only cock she’s ever going to take.

You move below his spread legs, getting a good view of his heavy balls slapping against her clit, his precum and her arousal coating the flesh of his sack, the sound of it smacking against her is for sure going to make some poor soul release their spunk all over their keyboards or whatever it is that they’ll watch this on.

Getting more footage of their full bodies, you maneuver yourself all around the bed, knowing that when this sucker is edited together, it’s really going to feel like an intimate telling of a couple’s honeymoon night.

You’ll give it to Javi and Lexxie— they’re good at what they do.

She reaches her peak first, shouting that she’s coming and her body flails and tenses, squeezing his cock and gushing cum out of her hole.

You make the mistake of looking up at Javier, finding that he’s already staring at you and he growls, stilling inside her and filling her up with his load.

It’s like everything else melts and disappears, leaving just you two suspended in this moment. The way his brown eyes twinkle with something you can’t quite decipher has your entire body quivering and your heart beating wildly in your chest.

What the fuck is going on?

“Get the money shot!” Robbie barks at you, seeing that you’ve been lost in a fucking daze and you shake your head, snapping out of it and moving off the rose petal covered sheets, again moving next to Javier as he pulls out.

Lexxie positions herself sexily, and not long after does her pussy flutter and milky cum begins to seep out of it, an obscene squelching sound as it drips lazily onto her engorged clit then the mattress.

It’s so fucking hot, you’ll admit it. That’s the point of these things, isn’t it? To turn others on. You can’t blame yourself for the way its intended effect washes over you.

Except your mind is still hazy from how Javier had looked at you while coming inside of another woman.

The pornstar shakes her hips erotically, giggling as Javier smacks her ass.

“And cut. Great fucking job team. You guys just made me a whole lotta money.”

You quit recording, licking your lips and moving off the bed quickly, closing the camera and making a beeline to the other side of the room, not being shy about the way you snag up another travel sized bottle of Fireball and shoot it.

“Drinking on the job?” Javier tuts, walking over to you with his soft cock hanging between his legs and you do your best to not let your eyes drop down to it. He’s got an unlit cigarette hanging from between his lips. “Very unprofessional.”

Lexxie has disappeared off into the bathroom again to clean up, Steve and Robbie discussing who knows what.

“Yeah well.” You’re flustered and hate how you’re conveying it. He’s reveling in the sight of you. “I got thirsty.”

“Hmm,” he hums, gaze narrowing ever so slightly, “Camera like what it saw?”

You clench your jaw, turning from him to begin packing your stuff up. You don’t have time for this, for him. You need to leave and get ready for the bar.

“You heard Robbie— just made him a whole lotta money, so what do you think?”

“Let me rephrase that. Did you like what you saw? Like watching the way I fucked her but was thinking of you the whole time?”

You freeze, static in your brain like an interrupted television broadcast and your body feeling feverish. You need to get out of here.

“And you say I’m acting unprofessional.” You scoff, trying to act like you’re not affected by him and his stupid words and that dumb mustache and his fucking bare cock.

He snorts out a laugh, prepared to say something else to grate your nerves but you don’t give him a chance, slinging the strap of the camera bag over your shoulder and grabbing your purse, pushing past him.

“Alright, Robbie I’m out. I’ll swing by the office tomorrow and drop this off after I’ve reviewed the footage.”

You can see Javier from your peripheral, tight jeans up on his hips and moving out into the balcony to smoke.

You feel like you can breathe a little easier now.

“Sounds good. I’ll have your check for it then.”

You nod, saying bye to Steve who has a shit eating grin on his face. “You workin’ at Lucky’s tonight?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll be there ‘round eleven for a beer… and to discuss whatever the fuck all that was.” He motions vaguely and you roll your eyes.

“I’d rather not.”

“S’too damn bad. I drink Michelobs, by the way.”

Your face scrunches up, “I shouldn’t let you in based on that alone.”

You can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips at his reaction, but it’s all in good fun.

This little interaction is almost enough to make you forget about… all that. Almost. The door to the balcony slides open again and you take that as your cue to get the hell outta dodge.

“Alright, whatever, I’ll see you then. Hopefully we’re not too busy.”

You say goodbye to Lexxie over your shoulder, briskly walking down the hall to the elevator, looking forward to the cold shower you’re about to take to cool down your heated skin.

[tpwk-formula1]

haii could i please order a pizza with sicillian crust with red sauce, and jalapenos, chicken, and tomatoes and my drinks are mtn dew(dom), beer and diet coke. Served by Max Verstappen please!!

Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu

sicillian crust dating red sauce rough sex jalapenos "always such a fucking brat" chicken "awe you thought I'd let you cum that easy?" tomatoes "do you enjoy pissing me off?" mt dew dom (reader) beer edging diet cock recording kink served by Max Verstappen

Max Verstappen x Dom reader

AN: I am so pleased with how busy the Pizzeria has been! I work at night today so I'm gonna get a couple fics more pizzas done before I have to go in.

TW - edging, sub max, dom reader, begging, unprotected sex, filming, taunting

WC 2100+

Y/N POV

I've been watching Max from the other side of the bar for the past 15 minutes while he talks to Checo about something having forgotten about the drink he was supposed to be getting me.

Another 5 minutes pass before Max is finally waving the bartender down to orders drinks and another 3 minutes before I watch Max approaching with his puppy smile trying to sweeten me up once he saw the cold stare I was giving him.

"Max it's been almost half an hour since you told me 'I'll be right back just gonna get your drink' right back my ass" I saw while rolling my eyes and talking the drink he was offering me.

"M'sorry, Checo was talking about the car," Max tells me sheepishly. I could tell he was sorry so I decided to brush it off and pull him to my side before placing a soft kiss on his cheek.

"It's fine, just stay on task next time," I tell him softly whispering into his ear.

I don't know how or when it happened but there had been a shift in max and I's relationship. At one point in time, Max was a young curious boy doing any and everything he could to dominate me and 'keep me in check' but as the years progressed there was a switch and he was no longer the one wearing the pants in the relationship. Most people just assumed Max was whipped but the very few who actually knew about the dynamic just understood it. To them it all made sense, on track, Max was a dominant force that instilled fear in his fellow drivers but off the track, he just needed an outlet to be taken care of.

"I promise," Max whispers before placing a kiss on my lips.

"Love you," he says when he pulls back. "Love you too"

As the night progressed Max had done really well about doing what he's asked but then Lando showed up and I knew instantly I was gonna lose him in the crowd.

I trust Max and I have no issues with him going off but being left at a table by myself surrounded by people I had never met was making me grow more anxious than I would like to admit.

It was about an hour later when I finally saw Max approaching the table with a dopey smile across his face letting me know he had definitely had another drink or two.

"Hi baby," Max says while plopping down right next to me not picking up on the annoyance radiating off of me.

"Do you enjoy pissing me off?" I ask back watching as the smile on Max's face instantly falls.

"Wha- huh? Wait, what did I do?" Max stutters, struggling to try and figure out what to say.

"You just disappeared for over an hour. You left me alone at this dan table and you didn't even tell me where the fuck you went or ask if I wanted to join," I tell him back piching his thigh slightly under the table.

"M'sorry. I promise I've been trying to be good. Don't wanna make you mad, schat" Max mumbles clearly feeling the shame of the verbal lashing he was gonna get later when we got back to the apartment.

"You're gonna be in tears tonight," I reply back straight faced not cracking a normal smile.

"Please just one more chance," Max begs knowing I meant every word.

"I gave you a chance with Checo. I don't understand how you hanging out with Lando somehow always results in you getting punished. Maybe we should send him a video of you tonight to let me know he's a terrible influence," I tell him while looking into his eyes before placing a soft kiss on his cheek to throw him off.

"You wouldn't" Max says with wide eyes of the threat of sending a sex tape. I just shrug my shoulders playing along with the bit.

"I don't know, I think he would love to know that the man he's fighting to get the World Driver Championship is just a needy whiney little bitch," I reply back making Max whine.

"You're a meanie," Max mumbles.

"And you're a brat. Don't we make a perfect pair," I saw with a smile on my face.

When we finally get back to the apartment for the night Max was pretty much sober knowing I would wait until morning if he wasn't sober. He chose take his punishment now versus the morning when he would be nursing a hangover.

"Go into our room, make sure the cats are out of the room, then strip down and be laying on you back in the bed. I'll be there in 5 minutes," I say the second the door is closed.

Max makes quick work of disappearing into our room where I assume he listened to every word I said.

In the 5 minutes, I stripped down into the lingerie set I had chosen to wear under my outfit before making my way down the hallway where I find Sassy sitting by the door staring up at me curiously. I give her a quick pet before slipping into the room to find Max exactly how I told him to be. I look around the room and found a neatly stack of clothes letting me know that Max had folded them up instead of throwing them arounf our room.

"I see you remember some of our rules," I saw while staring at the clothes so Max understood what I was referencing.

When I start climbing into the bed with Max I can see him tensing slightly in anticipation.

"You know how embarrassing it was tonight?" I said before spitting onto Max's cock and starting to jerk him off making him instantly grow hard under my hand.

"I was sat there all alone for over an hour. I looked dumb as fuck. I'm sure the Monaco gossip is gonna eat that up "Max Verstappen disappears leaving his long-time girlfriend alone at the table' You know how media is, they're gonna make it seem like there's trouble in paradise. When in reality it's just little Maxie being a brat. Oh! I almost forgot," I stop my teasing to grab my phone which I brought with me into the room.

"Say hi to Lando," I say while pointing the camera at Max's face. He's giving the camera such a pained yet slutty look it makes me laugh at his desperation. I wait a couple seconds before my voice booms through the room, "I said, Say hi to Lando." While verbally reprimanding Max I send a quick slap to his inner thigh close to his dick before pinching the same spot making Max squirm a bit.

"Hi, Lando," Max mumbles barely audible.

"Try that again. I hear the way you yell at your engineer. Such a disrespectful boy," I tell him with a raised brow.

"Hi, Lando" Max finally says in a loud enough voice to be heard.

"Good boy," I tell him while moving my unoccupied hand back to his dick making sure I have the perfect angle to get Max and his already wet with precum ccok.

"So needy. You're already dripping for me," I say with a smirk on my face.

"So good, schat" Max whines making me speed up slightly just to watch Max's breath hitch.

"I love it when you get like that," I mumble while squeezing Max's cock a bit harder.

"M'close," Max mumbled making me speed up just slightly before pulling my hand away and watching Max's eyes roll into the back of his head and tremble slightly from his pleasure being ripped away in a matter of seconds.

"No," Max whines dragging out the O sounding so desperate.

"Awe you thought I'd let you cum that easy?" I tease while starting to jerk Max off again while zooming the camera in on Max's cock dripping with precum.

"Schat, please," Max says already starting to beg.

"Oh come on, you can handle more than one," I tell him while leaning down and kicking softly at his tip collecting a bit of his precum.

I shuffle down the bed slightly to start pulling Max into my mouth and down my throat taking all of Max's length into my mouth making sure to bob my head slightly before bringing Max to the edge all over again.

I could tell when he was getting close again because his thighs started tensing under my hands making me rip away from Max's cock to watch him thrash around while bucking his hips to try and gain some kind of friction.

"Fuck no," Max whines staring straight at that the camera that I angled perfectly on his face.

"I love watching you get progressively more needy," I say with a smirk while gripping onto his cock and giving it a rough couple jerks before pulling Max into my mouth again.

I didn't give Max much time to calm down so he was on the edge rather quickly.

"Please, I'm gonna cum," Max says making me bod my head a bit faster before pulling away and watching Max try and chase his orgasm on his own by moving his hand to go and finish himself off but I quickly get a grip on his wrist and giving Max a look that says knock it off.

"No more," Max whines making me smirk slightly.

"Can you give me one more?" I question with a raised brow making Max whine but slowly start to nod his head.

"Yes, I can give one more," Max mumbles softly making me smile softly.

I started jerking off his cock softly making sure I'm filming everything again. I loved it when Max got like. The noises, his hips bucking, and the pure desperation in his eyes always seemed to turn me on.

I could tell Max was getting close but I wanted to push him farther than previous so I continue my movements till the second I know Max will cum I rip my hand away and watch as Max lets out a roar of desperation while jerking his body around not being able to gain any friction as I moved away slightly.

"Please, I need it. I can't do it anymore. I need to cum baby, please," Max begs making me smile softly.

"I'm gonna let you cum in a minute," I tell Max softly while rubbing his thigh in a soothing manner making Max whimper at the touch.

I turned the video off and tossed my phone away from us. I was still sitting in my lingerie set which is completely soaked through both from just witnessing Max get to the point of begging and also because I had snuck a couple fingers into my folds and teased my clit while giving Max head.

I stand from the bed softly and strip down completely before climbing back into the bed and climbing on top of Max before instantly sinking all the way down on Max.

"Oh fuck," I moan when I feel Max stretch my tight walls. I knew neither of us would last very long but looking at Max's face he was completely blissed out.

"So good," Max mumbled making his accent come out a bit thicker.

"So big baby," I moan while softly grinding my hips to gain some friction but not enough stimulation to bring Max or I to an orgasm.

"More, please" Max begs and I give him exactly what he wants because I start bouncing my hips slightly making both Max and I moan at the pleasure coursing through our bodies.

It doesn't take me long for the knot in my stomach to grow alerting me of the incoming orgasm. I look at Max's face and can tell he's trying to hold his orgasm off until I was cumming.

"Cum for me baby," I whisper out bouncing harder on Max's cock throwing me off the edge and into a violent orgasm.

The way Max's hips were erratically thrusting and the feeling of him filling me up sent me over the edge into a shaking orgasm. I'm shaking on Max's cock trying to ride both of our orgasms out.

"So good baby," I whine softly still feeling the aftershocks of the intense orgasm I just had.

"Thank you," Max says softly through staggered breath still trying to catch his breath again.

"You did good for me," I tell Max softly while pulling off his cock and laying down on his chest.

"You're not gonna send that to Lando right," Max mumbles softly making me chuckle a little and shake my head no.

"You know I would never, but I did love watching you get desperate on camera. Might start having to do that more often," I tell him softly looking up to watch his face. I could see the conflict in his eyes but he still nodded his head letting me know it was something he would be willing to do again.

[sodapopwrites]

the first sign of fall chapter three: it's hot when you have a meltdown

college au, the inner circle boys and the reader are bartenders, and also they play hockey in this one.

pairings - eris vanserra x reader, a teensy bit of azriel x reader

summary - all of your friends know about you and eris but refuse to speak on it. as the first hockey game of the season comes, so does the drama.

word count - 4.7k

a/n - this one is a long one...apologies. but i liveeeee for the drama and the constant lack of communication amongst these three. eris is fucking trying though.

read the rest of the series here!

You sat in Cassian and Azriel’s apartment. All of you had gathered to study, though it really seemed like you were the only one doing homework other than Amren. Mor’s book was open in front of her, but she was painting her nails that glimmering shade of red she was so fond of.  Rhys, Cass, and Az were all zeroed in on the TV watching old film reels of their last hockey game. Tomorrow was game day. The Velaris Devils vs the Autumn Court Smokehounds. You had been trying not to think about it and failing. 

“You’re a fucking idiot. What were you even trying to do with that move, Rhys?” 

Cassian pointed at the television and looked at his Rhys with a frustrated expression. Rhys shrugged and muttered something about being experimental. Mor chuckled from her seat and shot the boys a look while shaking her head. 

“You’re coming tomorrow right?” Cassian's voice was now directed at you. You shifted in your seat, chewing the end of your pen, and slowly raising your head to face all three teammates currently staring at you. Your whole friend group knew now…about Eris, but none of them mentioned anything. They all chose to stick with pointed silence. A new tactic, but it grated your nerves all the same. You took a deep breath. 

“Uhm. Yeah I guess.” 

Something soft and large hit you. You picked it up. Azriel’s jersey. Looking at him you arched a brow in question. He shrugged and just mumbled, 

“You’ve been wearing it every game since freshman year. It’s tradition.” 

Mor and Cassian exchanged glances after looking between you and Azriel. Both of them noted the small statement it made. Both of them knowing you’d wear it for traditions sake, not thinking about what it would do to Eris. Both of them knowing that what it would do to Eris, was the exact reason that Azriel offered up the idea in the first place. You nodded, tucking the shirt into your bag before flinging it over your shoulder and standing up. Rhys watched you gather your things and pick up your jacket, 

“You’re leaving?”

You nod and look around the room. At the complete lack of work being done, “I actually have work to do and you three yelling about hockey is…believe it or not…not that a productive study environment for me.” 

He shook his head, full of mock disappointment, “How can you focus on math when the first game of the season is tomorrow?” 

“Well Rhysand…Some of us are on scholarship.” 

He pursed his lips like that. No witty response coming to him now. Cassian frowned and shoved a handful of pretzels in his mouth before speaking, 

“You’re not on scholarship”

You roll your eyes at him, “You don’t know that.” 

“Yeah I do. You’re not on scholarship you’re just anal about grades.” 

You flip him off before heading towards the door. Azriel reached an arm out and caught your wrist as you passed by him. His voice was low as he asked, 

“I’ll see you at the game?” 

You offer him a small smile and nod. You’d see him at the game….you’d also see Eris at the game…playing against each other.  And that thought alone was giving you a headache. 

★ ★ ★ 

You had tucked yourself into a window booth in a coffee shop on campus. It was drizzling outside, red and yellow leaves staining the sidewalk, the streetlights had just come on. Lighting the whole road golden. This was why autumn was your favorite season. It was like he was in the very air around you, every color, every smell. You shook your head. Trying to get Eris out of your head. 

Lucien slid into the seat across from you. His hair slightly wavy and braids ran throughout it, he pushed it over his shoulder as he leaned against the table. You looked up quickly, mistaking the red hair and the tall, broad shouldered, frame for someone else. He saw it in your eyes and cocked his head with a small smirk, 

“You know how I’ve been trying to get you to go out with me for like the last three years?” 

You stop tapping your pen against the wooden table beneath your arm, and stare at him blankly, waiting for him to continue, 

“Imagine my devastation upon finding out you’ve been seeing my brother for the last month.” 

You shake your head and offer him a small smile, “Lucien you have never asked me out seriously.” 

“What the hell did Eris do?” 

“I don’t know.” 

Lucien watched as you shifted in your chair, the smile spreading across your face along with a light blush. He narrowed his eyes at you, he knew exactly what Eris had done to get this whole ball rolling. He had found you at a party, tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, leaned in close, and did that stare he always did. The whole routine ended with the two of you talking for a while, laughing and trading light hearted insults, before he cocked his head towards the door and offered you a ride home. It always seemed to work for him. The fact that it had worked on you surprised Lucien a little bit. Although…It wasn’t every day that Eris offered a girl a ride home. It wasn’t everyday that Eris didn’t just hook up with a girl at the party before promptly leaving and not really talking to her again. But from the jump his brother had wanted you in his house…in his space. 

“So if I started acting like a cocky asshole would you give me a kiss too?” 

“Started?” 

Lucien clicked his tongue at your remark before pulling your coffee cup towards him and taking a sip. He nodded towards you, 

“You going to the game tomorrow?”

“Why do you care? Mr. I joined the frisbee team specifically to piss off my dad.” 

Lucien chuckled. Remembering how angry his father had been when he announced at family dinner that he had not gotten onto the hockey team like Eris, but that he instead had gone out of his way to play competitive frisbee in the park every weekend. 

“I don’t care. A certain admirer was hoping you'd be there to cheer him on…or are you two still pretending that nobody knows what’s going on between you?” 

Lucien pointed a finger, accusatory at you, with a teasing smile. You flip a page of your notebook absentmindedly. Why was it that you could never find a spot to do your homework in peace. Never. You sigh, 

“Yeah I’m going. I always go. For my friends.” 

Lucien nodded slowly, musing on the friend's comment, “Right. Because that’s not going to get messy.” 

“What are you implying?” 

“Are you going to pretend that the tension with Azriel and Eris isn’t going to be fucking palpable to anyone with half a braincell?” 

You ignored that comment. Choosing to zero in on your homework once more. Your eyes switched between your notes and the notes Eris had given you. There were perks to him being a year older than you, he had class note’s for most of the classes you happened to be taking this year. Lucien gave you a quick once over, before pulling a book out of his back pocket and leaning back in his chair. Deciding to sit with you for a little while. 

As the silence stretched on, the music of the cafe humming softly in the background, the scratch of your pen against paper insistent. Lucien found himself studying you. Your deliberate avoidance of anything in the past with your so-called friend. He couldn’t stop himself from being nosy. 

“Do you guys never talk about what happened two years ago?” 

Your eyes snapped to him. Alarmed. No you did not talk about it. 

Two years ago. When something in your dynamic with Azriel shifted…forever. 

You were upset. You had gotten too drunk and like always he seemed to be there. The first person to find you when you were upset. The only person who’s comfort ever seemed to actually matter. His quiet solace, exactly what you wanted when you were inebriated and distressed. You remembered the way you leaned into his hug. The way you looked up at him and without thinking kissed him full force. The way he responded immediately. The way he had pulled you into his room….

The way the next morning you had dressed as quietly as you could and snuck out before he could wake up. The way the two of you never talked about it. Both of you hoping the other was too drunk to really remember what actually happened. Your friendship went on like nothing was different. All your friends knew. No one talked about it. 

Your voice was clipped when you responded, “No we don’t.” 

Lucien let it drop. Deciding maybe it was better not to push it. Maybe it was better to let it stay forgotten. 

★ ★ ★ 

Eris had one hand against the counter. Leaning on it as he pushed a wooden spoon around in a pot. You watch from your stool. Your eyes rake over him, hair mussed and his sweater a little baggy, a thread at the cuff of his sleeve coming loose. 

“Are you sure you can cook?” 

He didn’t turn to look at you, his focus entirely on the stove in front of him, “Why do you have no faith in me?” 

You chuckle quietly, “I have faith…in most aspects of you.” 

He started to plate whatever it is that he had made, still using his body to block it from your sightline. Finally he turned around and placed a bowl in front of you, moving to sit next to you at the kitchen island, 

“Pasta is kind of hard to mess up.” He stated before kissing your temple and pointedly looking at your food, waiting for you to try it. You took a bite and nodded slowly, making a mockingly concerned face as you did. He raised his hands in defense, 

“Okay it is not that bad, come on.” You giggled and shook your head, giving in, admitting it was good silently. He nodded his victory and nudged your elbow with his own. You ate in silence for a couple minutes. Taking in each other's company. Every now and then his hand would trace down your back, or through your hair, the small touches an ever present comfort. His apartment littered with your things. Your books on the coffee table in the living room. Your toothbrush in a cup on his bathroom sink. 

He brushed your hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear, so he could see your face. 

“You coming to the game tomorrow?” 

You pause before nodding slowly. A small smile grew across his fox like features, 

“So..You gonna sit on the smoke hounds side?” 

“You know…I have made prior seating arrangements.” 

He nodded slowly. You were going to sit on the Velaris side. Of course you were. That’s your school and your friends played for the team. Of course you were. He didn’t know why he hoped that you would sit and support him. Didn’t know why he thought you’d choose him over your friends. Maybe because you were sitting in his kitchen tonight instead of going out with Mor and Cassian. Maybe it was because you had been sleeping in his bed for the last couple weeks, seemingly unable to sleep comfortably without him. 

You studied his face. Watched as the disappointment hit him and he quickly covered it with a slight nod and a raise of his eyebrows, looking back at his dinner. You take a deep breath, 

“But…I’ll be rooting for you” You lean to kiss him, “And I’ll be here to celebrate your win afterwards.” 

He grinned at the idea that you thought he would win. That he’d beat your friends. But then he thought about your statement. I’ll be here to celebrate your win afterwards. Here. In his apartment. His brows furrowed, 

“Why don’t we ever go out?” 

“What like a date?” 

He nodded as if it was obvious. You smile and a crease in your brows start to furrow. 

“Eris you don’t date anyone.” 

“I date.” His tone was defensive and he straightened his shoulders to better look at you. 

“Eris. You allow girls to accompany you to parties. You don’t date.” 

He thought about the two of you. In the last couple weeks. What are we doing then? He wondered to himself. What was this if not dating? Why did you think he made himself so available to you? Why did you think he managed to find you throughout the day without even asking, caring enough to know your favorite spots and your schedule. Why did you think that he spoke to you so gently and craved your touch so constantly. Why did you think that he wanted you to sleep in his bed and nothing else, if not because he liked you. He sucked in a breath. Steeling his nerves. 

“Well, if I win…You owe me a date. A real one. You have to let me take you to the bar with the team.” He took your hand in his as he looked at you, “To celebrate.” 

A slow smile creeped across your face. He wanted you to go out with him. With his friends. You nod. A silent acceptance. Swallowing the guilt in your throat as you did so. The guilt that you had to show up tomorrow in a jersey that wasn’t his. Sit on a side that wasn’t his. But you had to support your friends. There had to be a way to do both.  

★ ★ ★ 

You slide into the arena with no notice. Pulling your jacket tight around you. Your eyes searching for a familiar face. None were in sight. Mor wasn’t here yet. You thought about going into the stands and taking your seat, but instead opted to hurry down the hall towards the locker rooms. The smoke hounds were leaving their locker room as you passed. A couple of the Vanserra brothers eyed you, one of them shooting a high pitched whistle your way and yelling, 

“Your boyfriends in there.” 

You roll your eyes and keep walking, quickly, and duck past the door. Letting it slam closed behind you. Eris was sitting on a bench. Not yet dressed, a towel slung across his hips. 

“Shouldn’t you be with the team for warm ups?” He raised his head at the sound of your voice, standing up to take a couple strides towards you. His arms came up to cage you against a locker and an annoyingly smug smile graced his face. 

“I was waiting to see if you might come to wish me luck.” His hand came down to slowly pull off your jacket and his eyes fell to the name across your shirt. SHADOWSINGER. His brows furrowed and he stared silently at it. 

“It’s not…I wear it the first game of every season…like tradition or something.” You tried to explain. Thinking he might understand the athlete rituals or whatever they were. The good luck charms. He pursed his lips and chose not to say anything. Instead his fingers toyed with the bottom of the jersey and he slowly pulled it off of you, before capturing your lips with his. You let your fingers slide up his arms, across his bare shoulders, and into the hair at the nape of his neck, as he lifted your legs to wrap around his waist. 

★ ★ ★ 

Mor studies the way you shift slightly in your seat, like you just can’t quite get comfortable. Amren sits next to you, not paying attention to the game at all, eyes glued to whatever complicated book in a foreign language she had started. Mor watches as you run your fingers through your hair, as if paranoid that it looks a mess. It doesn’t. Her eyes narrow as she watches the way you track Eris Vanserra move across the ice. 

“So are we ever going to talk about it?” 

“Talk about what Mor?” 

“You and Eris Vanserra.” 

You sigh, eyes not leaving the game playing out in front of you, “What do you want to say?” 

“Are you sure that it’s a good idea?” 

“Yeah I think I am.” 

She continues staring at you until you finally slump your shoulders and turn to her. You look her up and down, take in her crossed arms and her doubt laced expression. 

“Mor he’s…he’s sweet to me.” 

“Eris Vanserra doesn’t date people though. He fucks around and doesn’t care about the consequences.” 

“This is different. He wants-” 

She raised a hand to cut you off, “What does he want? What exactly is it that he told you he wants?” 

“Morrigan just leave it. She trusts him and there’s nothing we can do.” Amren mumbled from beside you, drawing your attention. 

You scowl at her tone, bored and slightly disbelieving her own words, and turn away from her. Your eyes falling to where he stands on the ice. Those russet eyes meeting yours with a wink before he takes off down the rink. You turn back to her with a small smile, 

“He wants me. Like really wants me and makes that clear. Not everyone does that.” You give her a pointed look as you say it. A look that told her to drop it. A look that said don’t bring up anyone else. I know who you want to compare him to, don’t. She holds your stare and relents. Uncrossing her arms and nodding. Maybe you were right. He did seem to follow you around like a puppy, as if no one else could see the way he trailed a couple feet behind you at parties, or the way he left minutes after you did. She offers you a small smile, laced with a little concern, but warm nonetheless.

You both whip your heads back towards the ice at the sound of a crash. A collision. Shouts echoed through the arena, a mix of booing, heckling, and cheering on the brawl now taking place on the ice. Your eyes scan the fight, trying desperately to see who it is, but you already know. Before you can even see the names on the backs of the jerseys you already know exactly who’s locked horns. 

★ ★ ★ 

Azriel saw him out of the corner of his eye, before the impact came. Knew it was going to happen, but didn’t have time to brace himself for it. Eris Vanserra blocked his pass to Cassian by slamming his entire body weight into him. Azriel hit the ground with a thud and a rattle of hockey sticks. His helmet damn near cracking ice with the sheer force of the fall. Eris standing above him a smirk playing on his lips, the auburn hair pressed to his forehead with sweat, his shoulders rising in a half hearted shrug as he started to skate away. 

Azriel scrambled to his feet, whipping his helmet off and shouting, “WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM?” 

Eris turned towards him now, pausing his retreat to purse his lips as if he was thinking and shrugging once more, “I don’t have a problem man. Just doing my job.” 

Azriel wanted to punch the smirk off his face. He squared his shoulders, trying to regulate his breathing, trying to stop himself from launching at the opposing team’s player. He didn’t miss the way Eris’ eyes flitted towards the stands. Azriel looked over his shoulder, to where you and Mor were sitting, the conversation you were having seemed a little heated. Your back turned just enough to see his name splayed across your shirt. His eyebrows raised in understanding and he let out a low laugh, just loud enough for Eris to hear, 

“Oh…You're mad that your girls got my name across her back.” 

Eris’ jaw set. His eyes steeled. A flash of anger, before that swaggering indifference came back and he pulled off his helmet, “You know I was mad about it. But uh..I’m not too upset anymore.

Azriel skated a little towards him as he whispered, “And why is that?” He was baiting him. Azriel knew that. He knew that he shouldn’t ask, knew that the answer to it would only fuel his anger. 

“Well, when I fucked her in that jersey, minutes before the game started…your name was the last thing she was thinking about.” 

The grin on Eris’ face was that last thing Azriel saw before he snapped. Launching himself towards Vanserra, his fist hitting the side of the man's face, both of them falling to the ground. He could have sworn he heard Eris laugh as his fist hit home again. Drawing blood. Both men tustling on the ground, fists flying, the crowd roaring. Eris topped him easily, almost too easily, like Azriel didn’t want to win. But he didn’t care as long as he got to punch the raven haired man underneath him until he was bruised and bloody. 

Cassian rushed towards his friend. Cursing under his breath as he threw himself into the brawl, pulling Azriel from under Eris and restraining him. Rhys at his side, holding Azriel’s other arm. The three players looked at Eris, still grinning, blood dripping from his hairline, and his mouth. He shakes his sweat drenched hair, tongue wagging as he watched Azriel get pulled away by his friends. 

Both of them were taken out of the game. Benched for the remainder. 

★ ★ ★ 

You raced down the hallway towards the locker rooms as soon as the game was over. Not sure entirely who you wanted to check on first. Mor was close at your heels. Amren had excused herself to drive to the bar stating that she needed a drink before she could deal with any drama. 

When you rounded the corner you were met with Eris and Azriel, already at each other's throats. Cassian standing a couple feet away, waiting for it to get bad enough to intervene. Azriel snarling something that you couldn’t quite make out and Eris meeting it with some lazy insult and a smug smirk. You took in his appearance, his blood stained hair and his busted lip, concern shot like lightning through your bloodstream. You shot your words at the eldest Vanserra first, 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He turned towards you, as did Azriel. 

“With me? He hit me first?” 

“And then you pummeled him into the fucking ground and got yourself hurt in the fucking process!” 

Azriel had moved slightly to stand behind you. Eris took in the sight. You fuming with frustration and Azriel towering behind you like some sort of guard dog. He scoffed and spat a mouthful of blood into the ground, 

“Typical.” He shook his head before turning away. He started to walk towards the locker room, before pausing and looking over his shoulder, “Can you really not see what he’s doing? What giving you that fucking shirt was supposed to do? You think he didn’t do that on purpose? To spread some seed of doubt? To make you choose, knowing damn well you’d choose your friend. Are you that blind?” 

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. Eris nodded shortly before letting out a humorless, breathy laugh, and pushing through the locker room door with one final comment, “I can’t do this. I’m done.” 

“What does that mean?” You called after him. But the door closed behind him and he didn’t bother responding. You stared at the closed door as if he might come back out, as if he might change his mind. Hoping that he would. Hoping he didn’t mean it. A minute went by….and nothing. 

You rounded on Azriel now,

“Is that true?” You crossed your arms over your chest, “Did you do that on purpose?” 

He shrugged, not meeting your eyes, “I don’t know what youre talking about.” 

Your eyes widened and you sucked your teeth in annoyance, “You don't?” 

Every single time you liked someone. Every single time someone liked you. Something went wrong. Your friends managed to convince you they weren’t good enough, or scare them away if that didn’t work. Every single conversation about what you deserved, the way their eyes would flit to Azriel. 

He stood silent in front of you. His expression stony and unyielding, so you continued,

“Why did you want me to wear this then?” You fisted the shirt wrapped around you. Brandishing it towards him to the best of your ability. He frowned and looked you up and down. 

You looked good. Angry, hair falling in front of your face. Stance defensive like you were ready for a fight yourself. Your eyes glittering as tears seemed to prick them incessantly. You looked good. It was all he could think as your question rang through his ears. He tried to think of a response. Something that would sound good, something that would release him of guilt, but he couldn’t. 

“You look good.”

His answer was short, and blunt, and lacking the tells of any lie. You laughed now. Tears threatening to spill. You shook your head quickly. Sniffling, trying to staunch the tears. 

“Well…you did what you do best. You ruined another fucking thing for me. Are you proud?” 

No response. 

“Are you happy now?” 

You couldn’t hold it in anymore. Hot, angry tears rolled down your cheeks. You held your expression still. Letting them fall silently. Refusing to sob. Refusing to give him the satisfaction. Refusing to let him step towards you to wrap you in a hug and release himself of any responsibility with the excuse of comfort. 

He took an uneasy step towards you, reaching out for you. Cassian cleared his throat and Azriel stopped in his tracks. Recognizing the sound as a warning. He sighed and let his arm fall back to his side. 

“I’m sorry” It was all he could think to say. He didn’t feel sorry. He knew he should but he couldn't muster up the feeling. He knew exactly what he was doing. Knew that the jersey would make a problem, knew that Eris would pick a fight. Knew that your concern would fester into an anger and cause you to lash out, it always did. 

You looked at him, incredulous, mouth agape, “You’re sorry?” 

Your tone made him straighten, bristle even. “He wasn’t right for you. If this was all it took to shake him.” 

“And who is right for me?” You were seething. Your words dripping with venom, stained with tears, “You?” 

You?

It hit Azriel hard. Cassian took a step towards the pair of you before Mor’s hand fell to his arm, halting his movement. Slightly shaking her head as if saying they need to have it out. 

“Well you didn’t seem to think so.” Azriel’s voice was cool and quiet. Like the first fall of snow before the storm. 

“What exactly do you mean by that?” 

You knew exactly what he meant. That he was referencing that night two years ago. The way you had left before the sun rose. The way you had never spoken about it again. The way you had let it simmer all these years.

And then the storm hit. Icy and raging. His voice dark like he’d never even known that the sun could shine. 

“You left…You want to talk about ruining things? Then tell me why.” 

You stared at each other. A silent battle of will. Mor and Cassian standing tense from their position a few feet away. Waiting for you to strike back. Waiting for some ending statement. Some final hurt laced come back. But nothing came, and the teams started to stream out of the locker rooms. Breaking the rigid silence. 

You turned away from your friends. I can't, I'm done. You weren’t going to let that be the end. You pushed your way through the Autumn Court team exiting the locker room. 

Azriel watched you go. His heart pounding. Bringing up that night two years ago was a bad idea. He shouldn’t have done it. Shouldn't have pushed it. It did more harm than good. He felt Cassian’s hand on his shoulder, pulling him away from the hallway. His silence speaking volumes. When Cassian couldn’t find anything to say, Azriel knew he really fucked it. Not even Mor would look at him as she walked away, probably going to join Amren. 

taglist :

@tiredsleepyhead @rosewood-cafe @kristijenner19 @becstersworld @girlwhoreadseverywhere @iambored24601

@the-sylver-dragon @scarsandallaz @fairydustblossom 

@theflowerswillbloom 

@theflowerswillbloom @melsunshine @mad-katsuki @lilylilyyyyy @blueeeeeshark

[hauntedhowlett-writes]

title: toyin’ with them older guys

pairing: bartender!joel miller/female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

chapters: 1/1

read on ao3 | masterlist

summary:

Joel Miller is the grumpy bartender and owner of your favorite bar near campus, where you attend trivia every Tuesday night. Thinking there’s no way Joel could return your feelings, your friend suggests trying out Tinder.

But when you bring them to the bar for a date, they keep leaving mid date with no explanation.

Maybe there’s something Joel isn’t telling you after all.

author’s note: thank you to everyone who hyped me up to post this when i wasn’t sure how i felt about it. your comments mean the world 💕

content warnings/additional tags: explicit sexual content (18+ MDNI), alternate universe - no cordyceps outbreak, no use of y/n, unspecified age gap, alcohol references/consumption, possessive behavior, jealousy, mild violence (in the form of Joel kicking someone out of his bar), brief reference to Sarah’s mom and divorce, tinder dates, bribery, dirty talk, begging, pet names, praise kink, unprotected p in v, oral (m receiving), spanking. let me know if i’ve missed anything!

There’s a bar near the university that you love to go to for multiple reasons.

For one, they have great drinks. For two, their loaded tater tots are the best drunk food you’ve ever had the pleasure of consuming.

But the number one reason, above all else, is the grumpy bartender and owner, Joel Miller.

The first time you saw him, he was challenging a kid with a fake ID, his arms crossed over his broad chest, emphasizing the strain of his flannel over his biceps. When the kid tried to take a swing at him, he grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back before marching him out of the bar and kicking him to the curb.

Your friend had to remind you to breathe.

He hosts a trivia night at the bar on Tuesday nights, the perfect excuse to see the man weekly. You sit at the bar each time, scribbling your answers on the notepad as you sip on a vodka cranberry and sneak glances at the older man while he works.

One night, you were struggling to answer a question about where the Lord of the Rings trilogy was filmed when Joel leaned across the bar, bringing his lips close to your ear to say, “New Zealand.”

You’d gotten the point, thanks to him. And from that day forward, he’d linger near your corner of the bar, watching to see if you needed help with an answer. Eventually, you started showing up earlier and earlier for trivia night, just for the chance to talk to him.

You told him about your PhD program and the research you were conducting. You wanted to be a psychologist, but for now you’re just a perpetual student. You miss winter weather in Colorado, but appreciate not having to store a giant jacket anywhere in your small apartment. Your favorite season is fall, and your favorite holiday is Halloween.

He tells you about buying the bar a few years ago, after his divorce from Sarah’s mom and ensuing custody battle had been finalized, an investment he made with his brother Tommy. They’d fixed it up themselves and made it a popular local spot. His favorite movie is Indiana Jones and he prefers whiskey over any other drink.

It’s no surprise that along the way you’d fallen in love with the man.

Too bad he’d never feel the same.

————

Joel remembers the first night he saw you. Your rosy cheeks and tipsy smile as you leaned forward to say, “Vodka cranberry, please. With lime .”

“Lime, huh?” He remembers saying. You nodded your head vigorously.

“The lime is the best part,” you insisted. He chuckled.

“Not the vodka?”

“Gross, no.”

He tossed in three lime slices and you shimmied your shoulders with glee.

You come into the bar, alone, for trivia night on Tuesdays now. You’re a fountain of random facts, but every once in a while he’ll feed you an answer to help you out because he likes the smile that you give him in return.

He has no right to be looking at you the way that he finds himself doing every week. Eyes wandering to the way your jeans hug your ass or drifting to your cleavage when you rest your elbows against the bar.

But between the conversations and the trivia and the sweet smiles, he’d gone and fallen in love.

Which is why when you come to trivia night with a man who wraps an arm around your waist, Joel loses his goddamn mind and does the stupidest thing ever.

You get up to go to the bathroom and Joel leans across the bar to address the guy, keeping his eyes on the bathroom.

“I’ll give you $100 if you leave right now,” Joel says.

“What?”

“Hundred bucks if you walk out that door and don’t talk to that girl again,” he says again. He digs his wallet from his pants and pulls a bill out, setting it on the bar top.

Without further question, the man grabs the money and stuffs it in his pocket as he heads out the door. Joel feels a flash of guilt when you return from the bathroom and look around for your missing date.

“Said he had an emergency,” Joel lies. He’s surprised when you look relieved.

“He was kind of boring, anyways,” you shrug, dragging your notepad and pen closer to you. “He probably would have just dragged us down.”

Us, Joel thinks.

He could get used to that.

________

Your friend, Marie, had convinced you to try out Tinder. She was absolutely certain you were missing out on the love of your life by not swiping mindlessly through profiles that held no interest to you.

You weren’t about to confess your unrequited love for the local bartender to get her off your case, so that’s how you ended up on a date with Michael. He was a law student and liked kayaking and hiking.

You liked neither of those things, but he had curly brown hair and you had a type, so why not give it a shot?

You didn’t have it in you to be too upset when you returned from the bathroom only to find out from Joel that Michael had left. Joel slid you another vodka cranberry with lime and your night went as it always did.

When Marie asked you the next morning how the date went and you told her he bailed, she insisted on picking your next one. She chose Scott, a financial analyst at a local bank.

You’re starting to think Marie doesn’t know you very well.

Regardless, you show up at the bar for another trivia night date. Scott is tall and lean, with blonde hair and blue eyes, and he wore a suit to a bar. When you comment on it, he pulls a face and says he came straight from work.

“Not all of us are lucky enough to not have real jobs,” he says. You blink at him, surprised by the hostility.

That hostility continues when Joel approaches the two of you at the bar, lips turned down in a scowl, and Scott decides to order for you.

“She’ll take a vodka water with lemon and I’ll have Bulleit, neat.”

Joel raises his eyebrows at Scott, his eyes flicking to you briefly, before he sets a plastic cup on the bar top. He holds Michael’s gaze as he pours a shot of vodka into your cup, before using the soda gun to dispense cranberry juice. You have to bite back your smile.

“Vodka cranberry with lime,” he says, sliding you your drink. “And your whiskey will be right out.”

“That’s not what I ordered,” Scott replies.

“Yeah, but it’s what she would’ve.”

Scott sputters, face going an alarming shade of red with his indignation.

“I’ll be right back,” you mutter, taking your drink with you as you head to the bathroom.

________

“I’m not paying for that drink,” the blonde asshole says, knocking his knuckles against the bar for emphasis. Joel huffs a laugh.

“I don’t give a shit, kid. I want you out of my bar,” he says, planting both hands on the wood.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Get the fuck out of my bar.”

“I’m on a date!”

“Not anymore.” Joel rounds the bar and gets up in the little weasel’s face. “Get. Out.”

The boy’s eyes go wide, like he realizes that maybe Joel isn’t playing around. He scrambles from his barstool, standing to his full height like he’s about to challenge Joel.

“You can’t kick me out, old man,” the blonde snaps.

Joel’s had enough. He fists a hand in the starched white shirt collar, driving him back towards the exit. The other patrons move out of the way, some whistling and cheering Joel on. He shoves the man out the door and looks at the doorman.

“He doesn’t come back inside,” he says. “And you? Don’t ever fuckin’ talk to her again.”

Joel returns to the bar as you’re walking up. For a moment, he worries that you may have seen him acting like a caveman getting rid of his competition, but you look around in confusion.

“Where’s Scott?” You ask.

“He forgot about somethin’ at work,” Joel says. Your brow furrows.

“Kinda weird that’s happened to me twice now,” you comment.

Joel just shrugs.

________

You don’t tell Joel about how you saw him throw Scott out of his bar that night.

You’d just left the bathroom when you saw Joel stomp out from behind the bar, his eyes dark and fixed on your date. You couldn’t hear what he was saying, but based on the affronted way Scott was responding, it wasn’t anything good.

You crept closer to the scene, but stayed amongst the crowd. Joel marched Scott backwards with a fist tangled in his collar, shoving him out the door.

“And you? Don’t you ever fuckin’ talk to her again.”

Your mouth went dry at his words and your mind reeled at the implications. Was he doing this from a place of friendship? Or…could he maybe feel the same way you do?

Only one way to find out.

You call up Travis, a good friend from undergrad who still lived in town.

“Trav, I need your help,” you say when he answers the phone.

“Burying a body type of help or financial type of help?” He replies easily.

“Actually, more experimental.”

“I don’t swing that way.”

“No, listen to me, I have a hypothesis,” you insist, explaining the situation to him. How you’ve been on two dates at Joel’s bar but each time, the men have left without another word. And how after what you witnessed, you’re inclined to believe that it’s not a coincidence.

You ask Travis to come with you to the next trivia night. All he needs to do is pretend to be there on a date with you. A bit of hand holding, maybe an arm around the waist. Nothing more.

“But what if he tries to threaten my life?” Travis asks.

“Well…I mean…every experiment has risks,” you reply flippantly. He sputters indignantly down the line. “I’ll buy you your drinks and get you tater tots.”

He’s silent for a moment before responding, “Fine. Extra jalapeños and I’m not getting well liquor.”

“Thank you!”

________

You come into his bar with another man. His arm is draped over your shoulders as you approach the bar and Joel has to set the glass he’s drying down before it shatters in his hands.

“Joel! This is Travis,” you say, gesturing to your date. He forces a smile, reaching a hand across the bar to shake his hand.

“What can I get started for you?” Joel asks. The man, Travis, orders an old-fashioned with top shelf whiskey, while you request your regular.

“I’ll be right back,” you say as Joel is pouring the drinks. You weave through the crowd towards the bathrooms and Joel leans in to address Travis.

“I’ll pay you $100 to leave this date,” Joel says.

Travis smirks. “Make it $200.”

“Are you serious?”

“That depends, are you?”

Joel’s eyes flick towards the back of the bar and he reaches into his pocket for his wallet. He pulls out four fifties, dropping them on the bar.

Travis pockets the money before adding, “You know, there’s cheaper ways to get the girl.”

“Get out,” Joel grunts. The younger man laughs his way to the door, and you appear at the bar a moment later.

“Where’d Travis go?” You ask.

“Oh, he—“

“Can I get an order of the loaded tots?” Travis asks, cutting Joel off from making up an excuse for his absence and sitting back down on the stool beside you with a shit eating grin. “She owes me.”

“Owes you?” Joel asks through gritted teeth.

“Yeah, she lost a bet. I told her I could get the number of that guy over there in less than three minutes and she doubted my charm.”

“Travis and I went to undergrad together,” you explain. “We just wanted to hang out and catch up.”

Shit.

________

Travis decides to leave after two plates of loaded tots and one too many drinks. You help him call an Uber, but you stay behind as the bar starts to clear out.

It’s just Joel behind the bar, wiping down the wood and setting bottles back to their rightful spots as you sip from a cup of water. The kitchen has closed down and the music has been shut off, leaving the two of you in loaded silence.

“So…,” you say, twirling your straw in your near empty cup. “You wanna tell me what that was all about?”

Joel’s shoulders go tense before he releases a deep sigh, turning to face you. The bar separates you, and it feels like miles of distance when all you want to do is get your hands on him now that your hypothesis has been proven.

Joel Miller likes you. And he’s been sabotaging your dates because of it. Perhaps you should be more upset, but all you can feel is an effervescent giddiness bubbling in your veins.

While he struggles to find the words, you decide to take matters into your own hands. You reach across the bar, hooking your fingers into the collar of his t-shirt and tugging him forward. You lean over to meet him halfway, pressing your lips to his.

You pull back and look into his eyes. The coffee colored brown of his irises seems darker, his eyes half lidded as he looks at you.

“You wanna get out of here?” He asks.

“Thought you’d never ask.”

________

Joel’s got one hand on the wheel of the truck and the other resting on your thigh. He has to keep a hand on you because he’s worried that if he doesn’t anchor himself, he’ll wake up from this dream.

You kissed him. You reached across the bar and dragged his lips to yours in a way he’d only dreamed of doing a thousand times since you’d sauntered into his life.

He can’t help the small smile that tilts his lips up at the thought.

“What’s got you smiling over there?” You ask, your voice teasing. He glances at you.

“You do, darlin’,” he says. He relishes in the pink that blooms across your cheeks at the pet name.

Joel drives to his house, parking the truck in the driveway of his little bungalow. His bachelor pad, as Tommy calls it.

Maybe not for much longer.

He circles the truck to open the door for you, helping you down from the cab. He keeps his hand on your low back as he leads you up the porch steps and through the door.

You toe off your shoes in the entryway, letting them join the pair of sneakers Joel left by the door. You’re wearing a pair of socks with tiny cats printed on them, the sight so endearing to him he can’t hold back his laugh.

“What?” You ask.

“Nothin’, just…like the look of you here. In my house,” he says.

“Yeah?” You take a step closer to him, toe to toe as you look up at him through your lashes.

“Yeah,” he whispers, wrapping an arm around your waist, tugging your body against his. The heat of you even through the layers of your clothes sends a shiver down his spine.

You press your hands to his chest, sliding them up and over his shoulders before linking them behind his neck.

“You gonna give me a real kiss?” You whisper back. Your lips are so tantalizingly close that they ghost across his as you speak.

He closes the distance, lips dancing with yours as he kisses you senseless. The feel of you against him, moving with him, sends sparks skittering across his skin. He’s unable to hold still, hands roaming from your back to your waist to your hips as your mouths part and your tongues tangle with increased desperation.

Joel slides his hands to the backs of your thighs, crouching slightly to lift you up, your legs wrapping around his waist. Your core slides against his growing hardness and he groans at the sensation as you let out the neediest whimper.

He wants to hear more.

He walks you both through the empty house until he reaches his bedroom, tossing you on top of sheets still rumpled from last night’s sleep. You scramble to sit up on your knees, moving to the edge of the bed and curling your fingers into the waist of his jeans.

“Can I suck your cock, Joel?” You ask, voice all breathy as you stare up at him with your big doe eyes. “Please?”

Joel’s mouth has gone bone dry. “Yeah? You want my cock in that pretty mouth of yours, sweetheart?”

You nod your head, fingers working on the buckle of his belt. His hands work in tandem with yours to get his fly open, shoving the denim down his thighs until he can step out of them. His cock tents his boxers, a wet spot already apparent on the fabric and he watches as you reach a hand out to stroke him, a groan escaping him at the feel of your warm palm against him.

“Take your clothes off and get on your knees,” Joel commands. He lifts his own shirt over his head as you unbutton and remove your pants, shimmying the tight fabric down your legs. He takes a seat on the edge of the bed as he watches you lift your shirt up and off.

His eyes rove your body hungrily. Your perfect tits and gorgeous curves, the way you flush beneath his gaze.

“Come here, baby,” he says, crooking a finger. You come to stand between his legs and he reaches around your back, unhooking your bra with deft fingers.

“You’re rather skilled at that, Mr. Miller,” you tease.

“I’m old, not dead.” He slips the straps from your shoulders, tugging the last barrier between him and your tits away. “God, baby, these all for me?”

“Mhm,” you him as he wraps his hand around the weight of one breast, thumb teasing your pert nipple.

“Tell me somethin’,” Joel asks, “why’d you bring all those boys around when you knew you needed a man?”

You lick your lips. “Didn’t know if the only man I wanted would want me back.”

Your voice is small and vulnerable as you say it, and that just won’t do. “Don’t just want you, baby. Need you.”

Your face lights up in the brightest grin. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, baby. Need you so fuckin’ bad,” he tells you, digging his fingers into your hips. “S’why I had to play dirty.”

Your smile turns downright salacious. You drop to your knees, running your hands up his thighs. “Show me how much you need me, Joel.”

________

Joel shoves his boxers down, exposing his cock to your hungry gaze. It’s gorgeously thick, the head a dark red from his arousal, a pearl of precum sitting in the slit. You lean forward and dart your tongue out to gather it.

“Don’t tease, sweetheart,” Joel says through gritted teeth. You keep your eyes fixed to his as you take him in hand, swirling your tongue over the sensitive head before taking him further into your mouth.

His hand is instantly in your hair. Not pressing, but his fingers tangle in the strands and tug deliciously against your scalp. He moans as you take him as far back into your throat as you can manage.

“Fuck, your mouth is better than I ever dreamed,” he says, voice rough.

“You’ve thought about this?” You ask when you draw back for breath, hand pumping his length in place of your mouth.

“‘Course, baby. These pretty lips wrapped around me, beggin’ for me to make them all swollen and used,” he says, standing and bringing a thumb to your lips and swiping it across their spit slick surface. “Open up.”

He uses his thumb to press against your bottom lip, opening your mouth as he takes his cock in hand and feeds it slowly between your lips. The smooth, hot length of him dragging across your tongue makes you moan.

“You like that, baby?” He growls, pumping his hips in shallow thrusts. “Like me usin’ your mouth how I want?”

You try to nod, your movement restricted by the grip of his hand that’s returned to your hair. There’s spit trailing down your chin and tears gathering in the corners of your eyes from the effort of keeping your mouth open for his thick length. You know you must look like a mess but with Joel staring down at you with his lust drunk expression, you feel on top of the world.

“I gotta fuck you, baby, will you let me, huh? Let me feel that pretty little cunt strangle my cock?”

You hum around his length and he withdraws, tugging you up by your hair and pulling you into the dirtiest kiss, all tongue and teeth and blatant desire as he turns your bodies, shoving you down onto the bed.

Joel slips an arm beneath your low back, using it to pull you up the bed as he crawls on to join you. He positions himself between your legs, tearing the soaked fabric of your panties down in a frenzy.

He slides his fingers through your wetness before bringing them to his lips, sucking them into his mouth with a groan.

“Christ, I’m gonna feast on you for hours, baby, but I wanna fuck you so bad,” he says.

“Then fuck me, Joel, please,” you beg, lifting your hips so that his cock slips through your center. “Come on, wanna feel you.”

He lines himself up, pressing into you with a delicious stretch, the slight sting of it making you whine. He shushes you, not stopping until his hips press against the back of your thighs.

“Good fuckin’ girl, takin’ my cock like you were made for it,” he says, leaning forward to kiss you, the shift in angle making him go impossibly deeper. “Tell me when I can move, sweetheart.”

You shift your hips restlessly beneath him. “Please move, Joel, wanna feel it.”

Joel pulls back before slamming forward, the force of it making you slide up the bed as all the air leaves your lungs in a whoosh. His grin is sharp as he does it again and again to the tune of your desperate cries.

“Joel!” You cry, clawing at his back with each thrust. “Fuck, yes, yes!”

He withdraws abruptly, the loss of him as you clench around nothing making you whine pathetically. With a bruising grip on your hips, he twists your body until you’re on your belly, ass in the air and chest pressed to the mattress.

Joel slides back inside your tight heat, a palm slapping across one cheek then the other as he resumes his powerful thrusts.

“Fuck, darlin’, you’re so goddamn tight,” he growls. A hand presses to the back of your neck for leverage, changing the angle yet again. “Can you cum for me? Can you soak my fuckin’ cock, baby, I bet you can.”

You nod, the movement restricted, but you can’t form words. All you know is the feeling of Joel pounding into your body like he owns it.

The hand on your hips moves to the front of your body, fingers finding and pinching your clit. You sob against the mattress, the sheets wet beneath you from tears and drool.

“Come on, baby, fuckin’ cum for me,” he growls. “Won’t fill ya up until you do.”

That’s the visual that does it. The thought of Joel finishing with you, inside of you, dripping out of you too much for your lust addled brain. With a shout, the thin remnant of your control snaps and you pulse around him.

“Fuck yes, that’s it, sweetheart, good fuckin’ girl,” he praises, his hand leaving your neck as he sits up, his tempo fast and sloppy as he chases his release through yours. “You want me to cum in this tight little cunt, honey.”

“Yes, please,” you manage to slur, muffled by the sheets. With three more harsh thrusts, he does as promised, spilling inside of you with a shout.

He slows before withdrawing, your body collapsing against the mattress without him there to hold you up. He chuckles as he flops beside you, dragging you into the cradle of his body.

“You done playin’ games with those boys?” He asks, smiling smugly against your neck.

“Yeah, think I might be into older guys,” you tease. He pinches your hip, making you laugh.

“See if I ever help you during trivia again.”

________

Joel’s standing in front of you, arms crossed with a scowl on his face as you stare up at him with pleading eyes.

“Come on, baby, help me out,” you ask sweetly, batting your eyelashes.

“Last call for an answer to our final question! What is the only song credited to all five original members of the band Fleetwood Mac?”

Joel sighs, biting back his smile. “The Chain,” he tells you. You scribble the answer, running your paper up to the emcee. When you return to the bar, you lean across the polished surface and tug him towards you, planting a kiss to his lips.

He drags you back for another kiss. And another.

“Anytime, darlin’.”

Joel Miller tag list: @huffle-punk punk @johnwatsn @hopelessromantic727 @whereasport @pedr0swh0r3 @yellingloudly @dragon-of-winterfell @thedeadsingwithdirtintheirmouths @mydailyhyperfixations @liati2000 @ghostofjoharvelle @cutesyscreenname @morgaussy @letsgroovetonighttt @endlessthxxghts @fake-bleach @brilliantopposite187 @mattmurdock1021 @str84pedro @justsomeoneovertherainbow

Join the tag list here!

[incendiobrock]

Friday Nights {Chris Sturniolo}

Request: Hey could you do a Chris x reader fic.They both like each other but it’s more obvious on the readers end cause she is a big flirt.But Chris is more shy and reserved and tends to stray away from her.Her and the boys go out to a club and there is a girl who hits on Chris.He gets uncomfortable and the reader swoops in and saves him.she basically Like if anyone gonna flirt with you it gonna be me and say (dialogue 13 “I think a deserve a kiss”)Chris surprise her with a sweet kiss on the lips.

Prompt(s): "I think I deserve a kiss."

Warnings: drinking, I think that's it!

A/N: PLEASE SEND ME REQUESTS!!!

Friday nights were always your favorite. The triplets would upload their new video and then you would all go out and celebrate the beginning of the weekend. Between the boys filming, editing, and working on their own projects, and you being busy with your own things, Friday nights meant you could all finally relax. This Friday night was no exception.

The club was filled and the music was loud, just the way you liked it. "Let's go to the bar!" Nick said over the music, everybody following behind him as he led the way. Chris was looking incredible, as always, and the crush you had on the boy was growing by the second. You made it no secret that you were into him, flirting with him constantly. It was endearing to see him get all shy when you would compliment him.

His back was facing you as he stood in line with his brothers at the counter of the bar. You snuck in closer, nuzzling slightly into his right side and standing arm to arm. "What's the pretty boy thinking about drinking tonight?" You asked, getting close to his ear so he could hear you. He glanced at you with a smile on his face before briefly looking down at the ground, "Oh uh, probably just a beer or something."

The bartended stopped in front of you guys, asking everybody for their order. Nick and Matt went first and before Chris could speak up you decided to order for the both of you, sliding your card towards the bartender, "I'll take a vodka soda and a beer, you can put them both on my tab?"

Chris looked at you surprised, "What? Why are you paying? I was going to put it on my card!" You smiled, admiring his bright blue eyes, even in the dimly lit bar area. "Don't worry about it, let me treat you." You winked, before excusing yourself to run to the bathroom.

"Matt, if my drink comes out before I'm back don't let Chris drink it all!" You laughed, Matt promising to guard your drink from his younger brother. You had only been gone for maybe five total minutes but your place by Chris had been taken over by another girl. Sighing to yourself, you made your way in between Nick and Matt, wishing your original spot hadn't been taken. Over the music you could slightly hear the girl talking to Chris.

"Do you come here often? I feel like I've seen you before?" She asked, watching Chris as he took a sip from his beer bottle. Chris shifted uncomfortably on his feet as he replied, "I've been here a few times, yeah."

"You're too attractive to be here alone, you don't have a girlfriend or anything?" The girl pushed, inching closer to his side and trying to take hold of his bicep with her hand. Matt nudged you with his elbow, widening his eyes and tilting his head towards Chris' direction, trying to discreetly tell you to go over there. You caught on quickly as you noticed Chris scratch the back of his neck, uncomfortably trying to think of a response.

"Hey baby, I'm back! Sorry the line for the bathroom was super long!" You had placed your hand on Chris' arm, stealing the spot that the girl had briefly touched earlier. "And, who are you?" You asked, cocking your head to the side in annoyance. The girl opened her mouth to speak, looking around the club, "Sorry, I was uh- just leaving..." She walked away into the crowd so quick that you had immediately lost sight of her whereabouts. You met Chris' eyes with your own once again, searching them to make sure he was okay.

"Thank you." He said, feeling relieved that you had been there to save him from the uncomfortable encounter.

"You're welcome Chris. You know I would do anything for you. I think I deserve a kiss for all my hard work." You joked, continuing the flirty banter that you always shared with the special boy who unofficially had your heart. Without another word Chris leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. It was soft and sweet, and slightly tasted of beer, "You deserve more than one but we'll talk about that when we get back home." He said, pulling away from you. It was your turn to be left speechless as you processed the fact that Chris had finally made a move on you.

"I can't wait," You smiled, feeling giddy the rest of the night you spent at the club. Friday nights just got even better.

[reidmotif]

Regret on the Rocks

Summary: Spencer finds himself at a bar being served by the girl who once broke his heart. Turns out she feels a lot more than just regret for letting him go.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Light Angst/Smut

Content Warning: drinking, Spencer is a little depressed, mentions of heavy bullying (specifically 3x16), car sex, female masturbation, Spencer POV, heavy kissing, unprotected penetrative sex

Word Count: 4.3k

Masterlist

Regret is an emotion I’m well accustomed to. It’s not to mean that I’m unhappy with my life by any means, but I’m aware of the space between my current situation and the ‘beyond’ that could’ve been if things had just been different. 

If I’d never joined the BAU.

If I’d had a more conventional life in the first place.

If connection came to me as easy as it seemed to other people my age. 

But none of those things seemed to ring true, so I carried regret in me like a bruise of honor. Despite the regret, I faced it every day and lived to do it all over again in the morning. It didn’t mean it was easy, and today proved that. Today, it was hard going to sleep knowing I’d wake up to do it all over again. 

In light of this, I’d found myself in a bar, alone. The case we’d been working on saw little to no fruition despite our efforts, and it’d resulted in another body we couldn’t save. Another person I was responsible for. It weighed down on me more than I cared to admit. 

I found myself continually lost in my thoughts, navigating through the carefully weaved web of guilt and self-doubt, spiraling, until a much softer, surprised voice pulled me out. 

“Spencer Reid? Is that you?” She asks. I hear her voice before I see her, and I know that it’s the bartender stood behind the bar, and there’s confusion as I wonder who could’ve possibly recognized me in a rundown small-town bar.

I look up and meet her eyes, and it’s as if a flood of memories ensues. A flash of recognition crosses my face, and seeing the images playing in my head, almost akin to a film reel, slowly walking me through one of my earliest regrets. 

I was 15, navigating my senior year while being the youngest one there. Despite the oddness of my situation, it never crossed my mind that I shouldn’t have tried so hard to participate in the same social events as my peers. With the hindsight of adulthood, I now imagine that if I had withdrawn, spent more of my time alone than trying to not be,  the hurt of never being accepted would sting less, because I’d never had tried in the first place.

But I had tried, and she was the only one who got me. She was older, yes, and beautiful and popular,  but those didn’t matter half as much as the conversations we’d manage to have. She never seemed to take offense to any ramble of mine, and I’d feel my heart soar when she’d ask questions after my monologues, sending me the clearest signals of interest in what I had to say.

And as a lonely 15 year old? It meant the absolute world to have that. To have her as my friend.

And so, when it came time for senior prom, in the interest of at least trying to fit in, I asked her to go with me. As friends of course, but even then she shook her head, and ruefully told me someone else had asked her. I vaguely recalled the name she’d given me off of a football roster I’d once read while attending the school, and nodded. I understood. I was prepared for the rejection, in fact I’d already taken it the moment she said no. I was prepared to live with it.

Then came the week before prom. Being lured away from the safety of the campus, and onto a football field. Being tied to a flagpole, while everyone watched- and laughed. I remember seeing a face, his face, knowing he was the one who was taking her. Taking (Y/N) to the prom. 

I rarely dwell on the events of that day, but I do remember the regret. I remember wondering that if I’d just never spoken to her, I’d maybe have been less of a target. I wondered if maybe I’d never asked her in the first place, maybe our friendship could’ve survived the whole ordeal, but it hadn’t. She never spoke to me after that, her head hanging low as she continued to hang off of his arm, never sparing me another glance again. 

But here she was, glancing- no, staring at me, her eyes wide. 

“What are you doing here? Are you.. Did you always live here all along?” She asks, her voice uncharacteristically soft and mellow. She was loud back in high school, I remember. She had the best laugh I’d ever known. 

It takes me a second, but I give her a flat smile, setting my glass down. “I’m here for a case, actually.” 

“A case..?” She says, her head tilting a bit in confusion. 

Clearing my throat, I nod. “Yeah, a case. I’m an FBI agent. I’m here for a recent string of murders being committed in the area.” 

“Wow, FBI, huh? I never thought of you as law enforcement.” She says, her eyebrows raising. “Always thought you were going to change the world with that brain of yours.” She adds, a small smile on her face. My eyes narrow in distrust at the sudden compliment, unsure of her intentions. 

“I’d say I’m changing the world.” I respond, a little defensively. “I like my job. I like that I change lives by not letting them end.”

She immediately retracts her statement, vehemently shaking her head. “No, no! That’s not what I meant at all. I mean, of course you’re changing the world- I just thought you’d be doing more. Okay- not more. I just- Gah. I swear, don’t take it the wrong way.” She pauses, before gesturing to herself.  “I mean, I have no room to talk.” She says, the words a little rushed and frantic. 

“What do you mean, no room to talk?” I ask, squinting in genuine confusion. 

“I mean, I work as a bartender. I don’t know what I want from life, but it’s certainly not this.” She says, motioning to the shelves of drinks behind her, a little defeated. 

She’s so different from when I knew her. Self-assured. Confident. She seemed almost meek in this environment, and the only recognition of the girl I knew came from the small, embarrassed smile she gave me.

“Well. We’re a lot more alike than you think, then. Titles mean nothing.” I say, voice a bit quieter. “I don’t think it’s anything to be ashamed of, though. We’re just getting through life the best we can, right?” 

She nods a little, seeming to take comfort in my statement. “Look at you. You’ve still got the same sweetness in you from high school.” 

Stiffening at the mention of high school, I just nod and taking another sip from the glass in front of me, which was starting to empty out. “Not trying to be sweet, I think. Just honest.” I say, bluntly.

It’s mean, I’m aware. I can feel her trying, but I don’t want to offer her the same. I want her to feel awkward. I want her to know what she did was wrong. 

There’s a silence that passes through the two of us, before she breaks it with a continued gesture of kindness, turning around to fill another glass with my drink of choice and setting it down in front of me, a small smile playing on her lips. 

“For being honest then. Thank you.” She says, and her eyes meet with mine. I almost hear the unspoken apology in her voice, in the way her fingers slowly push the chilled glass towards my empty hand, in the way she bites her lip softly, waiting to see what I’d say.

“To being honest.” I say, raising the glass slightly and downing the drink a little faster than I intended, not wanting to think too much about the implications of the gesture. To know that she possibly had regrets too. That she might still have the goodness I once knew in her. 

“I have about half an hour left in my shift, but if it’s alright, I’d love to catch up properly.” She says, keeping her gaze trained on mine. “I’ve.. missed you.” She says, her voice soft. 

I don’t respond to her last statement, but I can’t deny the magnetic pull begging me to say yes to her request, to at least see where our lives had gone after our separation. So I nod, silently.

“I’ll be here.” 

I try to lay off the drinks for the next thirty minutes, opting to sip some water instead to clear my mind in preparation for the time I’d be spending with her. Part of me wondered if I shouldn’t have accepted the invite at all. It wasn’t that I forgave her per say,  but the curiosity to know her all over again was overwhelming, regardless of the pain she’d caused me. I’m once again reminded why “curiosity killed the cat” is such an overused aphorism.

She comes up to me thirty-six minutes later, and I hate myself for keeping track. She flashes me a small smile. 

“You waited.” She says, softly. 

“I said I would, right?” I respond, unsure why that would mean anything to her. I agreed to this. I wanted this, even if I could physically feel the inner turmoil brewing throughout my body. I suppose it didn’t show though, because she continued on, smiling. 

“There’s an ice cream place I like around here. Would you like to go?” She asks, and I see her teeth catch onto her bottom lip, the plumpness of the feature being exacerbated by the action, causing me to momentarily lose my train of thought. 

“Uh. Yeah, ice cream. Sounds good.” I say, placing my hands in my pockets. 

“Did you drive here? I mean- I hope not. You drank quite a bit.” She says, starting to walk to the exit of the bar. 

“No, no. My hotel is actually right here. I walked. Needed to get my mind off some things and I ended up here since it was convenient.” I say, and I feel myself falling back into that comfortable rhythm of just being able to speak freely around her. 

It’s like no time has passed at all, and yet I’m acutely aware that nothing is the same. That we’re avoiding a bigger issue at hand. 

“Yeah.” She murmurs. “The murders around here have been grisly, haven’t they?” She says, starting to lead me to her car. “I get nervous when I hear about that stuff, so I find myself looking away from the news more often than not.” She continues, quirking her mouth to the other side, as if she’s aware this isn’t the best course of action, but does it anyway.

“It’s cute.” I think.

I push the thought away. 

“Understandable.” I reply, nodding. “I don’t watch the news either. I mean- I do read the news. But I don’t watch it.” 

She starts the car, and I observe a hint of a grin on her face, her eyes crinkling at the edges in a way that makes my heart jump. “So you still like to read then?” She says, seeming genuinely happy I’d kept up the habit even after my youth. 

“Oh yeah. I mean, reading isn’t something I really ever let go of. It’s a good activity when you’re out on the road so much.” I say, feeling solace in talking about something I truly loved. “Sometimes I feel like books provide me with better stimuli than social interaction.” I continue, unaware of the implications of my words, and I only realize once I’ve seen her raise an eyebrow. 

“Yeah, but I mean. Friends are good too, right?” She says, a hint of concern making her way into her voice. 

I chuckle a little bitterly. “Probably. I mean, don’t get me wrong. I have my team, and I’m grateful but-” I pause, taking a deep breath. “I don’t know. It doesn’t come to me like that, you know? And I’m not bothered by it, but I don’t like to think about it.” I say. There’s a faint feeling of heat on my face from the honesty, but I continue to stare straight ahead, not wanting to see her reaction to my words. 

“You were a good friend to me, Spencer. Better than a lot of the friends I had in high school, and I’m not just saying that.” She says, softly. 

I respond without thinking, shaking my head with an embittered motion and a click of my tongue.

“Yeah, and look where that got me.” 

She’s a little silent then, and I refuse to say anything else. She’s the one who invited me here. I don’t know what she wanted out of this, but I wasn’t going to forego my own feelings just to spare hers. I was here. That was enough. I was allowed to say that. 

We pull into an empty parking lot, where I see the neon lights advertising an ice cream parlor, but we don’t get out. She turns off the headlights and blows a bit of air between her lips, placing her hands in her lap and turning towards me. 

“Spencer.” She murmurs, swallowing a bit. “I am so, so sorry for what I did in high school. I know I wasn’t there when.. You know when. And I know I didn’t speak to you afterwards, and I am so sorry.” She repeats. “I hope you believe me when I say I really did miss you. I was such an idiot back in high school, and nothing can repair that, but I missed you so much.” She says. 

I turn to her and can see the tears welling up in her eyes and feel my heart soften. It’s insane, the effect she can have on me, even years later.��

“Hey, don’t cry.” I say, immediately reaching over to wipe a tear from her cheek, my thumb swiping over the expanse of her smooth skin. “It’s just high school. It’s a long time ago.” 

“No.” She says, emphatically, shaking her head. “Don’t lie to me. What I did was awful. It doesn’t matter if it was long ago. You can call me a bitch. You can- scream or hell! I don’t know. You can be angry at me. You should be angry at me. I could never say sorry enough.” She says. 

I shake my head, all the previous resentment and bitterness dissipating instantly. It was a bit odd, feeling the emotions I’d long held onto even years after our fracture go away so quickly, but she was my friend. For what it had been worth, she had been good to me.  And right now, she was my friend, crying in a car, and the guilt and shame couldn’t be more obvious. 

I move to hold her hand, wanting to comfort her, rubbing small circles into the skin near her thumb, her fingers grasping over mine, almost afraid to let me go now.

“You’re right, in a way. What you did confused me and left me feeling really.. lonely. But now that I’m older I think I better understand it, but it doesn’t change the fact you hurt me.” I reply, and I see her jaw tighten, nodding and taking my words to heart. 

“But I don’t think I resent you anymore for what happened.” I continue, the words tumbling out. “Seeing you guilty and ashamed so many years later is just making me wish we’d talked earlier, so we wouldn’t have had to feel this way for so long. Maybe we could’ve.. I don’t know. Picked up where we left off.” 

She gives me a flat smile, tears still in her eyes. “Yeah? I’d have liked that.” She murmurs. 

“I mean it.” I say, flashing her a soft smile. I decided to lighten the conversation for her comfort. 

“Doesn’t mean I won’t call you an idiot for dating that prick though.” I respond, a little teasingly, hoping to get a bigger smile out of her. 

“Oh god.” She says, leaning back, laughing a bit. “Please do. God, he was so .. awful.” She says. “He wasn’t half as funny as you. Just.. boring honestly.” 

I smirk a little at the words, feeling a bit of pride but brushing it off with a shrug. “I mean, it's a cliche right? Beautiful, smart girl with the boring jock?” I say. “You and like, 6 out of 10 high school girls probably fall directly into that category.” 

She gives me a laugh at that one, a real one, and my heart soars upon the sound alone. I hadn’t realized just how much I’d missed her.

 “6 out of 10? Where’s that statistic from? High School Girls Anonymous?” She responds, matching my energy and continuing the banter.

“Just trust me. I know these things very well.” I say, trying my best to sound as faux academic as possible, hoping to make her feel at ease, to fully let go of the tension from before.

“Well, then.” She says, softly, turning the conversation to be a bit more sincere. “I’m glad I don’t fall into that cliche anymore. I’m glad my taste changed.” 

I nod, surprisingly relaxing into the vulnerability of the words. “Yeah, it happens. Tastes do change throughout life, especially post-adolescence. One could denote it to the development of the prefrontal cortex, but I like to say it’s out of knowing what you want out of life.” 

“Have yours? I mean, your tastes. Have they changed?” She asks, her eyes boring into mine, and I realize that my hand is still holding hers.

I lick my lips and shrug. “Here and there. For the most part, yes, but I find myself clinging to certain aspects of my teenage self.” I respond, vaguely. 

She continues to look at me, nodding. “Mine have. For sure.” “How so?” I ask, my heart speedingbup. 

“I think I learned to like sweeter guys.” She says, softly. “Ones that don’t bore me entirely, and ones I actually want to spend time with. Maybe that’s a cliche in itself but..” She shrugs, ending off her sentence there. 

I nod, wondering where this was leading. Her eyes were trained on mine and I could feel my pulse quickening. Was she going to kiss me? Was I going to kiss her? Was I crazy for thinking that at all? What was happening here? 

“You said you still have certain aspects of your teenage self in your tastes.” She says suddenly, her face moving a bit closer to mine. “What did you mean by that?” 

I sigh, taking in the features of her face, and how they seem to be illuminated by the moonlight streaming through the windows of her car. She was so stunning, even now. Even after all these years, I couldn’t deny she’d only grown to be more beautiful.

 I lick my lips and nod. “I guess I just meant.. I still find you just as beautiful as I did back when I first knew you. Even moreso now, honestly.” I say, quietly. 

I can feel her breath hitch, and her own tongue darting out to wet her lips, mirroring my actions. Her gaze shifts from my eyes to my lips, and back to my lips again, and I’m extremely aware of what I want at this moment. 

“Can I kiss you?” I ask, my hand still in hers, studying her with a careful gaze. 

She nods almost immediately, and at the same time, we surge forward to meet the other’s lips, her hands immediately cupping my cheek and my hands moving to her waist. I hear the click of her seatbelt being unfastened, and suddenly she’s in the passenger seat with me, straddling my waist and continuing to keep her lips locked firmly on mine. 

It’s like I can’t get enough of her, my hands exploring her back, eventually lowering them to squeeze her ass, which elicits a low moan from her. I pull back a little, panting and see her eyes blown out with lust, causing me to groan from just how deep my desire for her ran in this moment. I let one of my hands to run over her bottom lip, pulling it down and letting it bounce back up, enamored by just how close she was. 

“Fuck.” I murmur, unable to contain my awe at her and without wasting a moment, she’s grabbing my hair roughly to pull me back in again to meet her mouth with mine. When given the opportunity from another soft moan from her, I immediately slip my tongue into her mouth, relishing in the way she grabs my collar and presses her body against mine, matching my enthusiasm one for one. 

It felt so good to be wanted by her.

She starts to whimper at the intensity of our prolonged contact, and the sound activates something primal in me. It was almost as if once I heard it, I couldn’t go back. Pulling myself back from the kiss, I start to trail my lips up and down her neck, leaving hot, wet kisses in my wake while she writhed in my lap, her fingers tugging on my hair in desperation. I played with the motion for a bit, testing out certain points on her, before finding that she’d moan loudest at a pulse point at the junction in which her jawline met her neck. I sucked on the spot, being sure to leave a large, dark mark.

I didn’t care what would happen after this night, but for right now, she was mine, and I intended to treat her as such. 

“You said your hotel room was nearby, right?” She pants, starting to move her thighs off mine. “We can go and-” 

I immediately wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her back against me with a force that surprised even me, before gripping her hair and placing my mouth near the shell of her ear. I can hear her squeak at the motion, but her legs relax back into straddling mine. 

“I want you now.” I whisper, my voice hoarse and low. “We can go, if you’d like but- I need you now. I can’t stress that enough.” 

She melts in my arms as I say that, and a grin comes upon my face from the desire she was displaying as well. She nods quickly, before moving her fingers to my belt, and just upon hearing the sounds of the hardware moving, my head involuntarily falls back because- holy fuck. Feeling her so close to where my pants were now currently constricted nearly had me finishing right there. I could barely look at her without feeling overwhelmed. I feel my cock being pulled from my briefs, and I let out a moan. 

I look at her again, and she’s the picture of lust. Her pupils are dilated and her hair is messy, and her mouth slightly agape. She’s everything I want right now. All I want. 

“You’re so big.” She mumbles, leaning back, her hand wrapped around me, beginning to stroke me in a gentle, rhythmic motion. 

“Yeah?” I murmur back, breathing in sharply when her thumb runs over my slit, feeling the precum already dripping down my shaft. Even her hand is making me question if I’ll finish right here before ever getting to be inside her.

“Yeah.” She whispers, almost breathlessly. 

“You can take it.” I say, looking at her, and the girl looks like she’s about to moan off of my words alone. She licks her lips before responding, her voice a bit higher than before. 

“I don’t have a condom- but I’m clean and-” 

“Yes.” I respond immediately and she moves quickly. My fingers, as if possessed, move to unbutton her dress a bit, letting her breasts spill out (to my delight). The urge to strip her bare for me crosses my mind, but then I’m acutely aware that we were in her car, and the risk of being caught was far too high for the pleasantries I wished to indulge her and myself in, and I find myself slightly wishing we had gone to the hotel room. Next time.

Before I get too caught up in the fantasy of possibly ever fucking her again, I see her reach under her dress, presumably to move her panties aside and groan at the thought. My hands roam over her body to find her hips, slowly guiding her onto my cock, her walls squeezing around me tightly as her hips met mine. 

Her moans were sweet, but I found my hand covering her mouth quickly, watching as her eyes shone with pleasure with just the slightest movement from either of us. 

“Need you to stay quiet, pretty girl.” I murmur. “You can do that for me, right?”

She nods, eager to please, and I keep my hand on her mouth for a moment too long as I watch her eyes flutter shut, then open, her hands wrapping around my neck to stabilize herself. She starts moving then, lifting off until my tip is the only thing inside of her, before slamming against me, creating the best type of friction for both of us, causing there to be desperation for more. My hands rush down to grip her waist, and I can barely stifle my own noises from how fucking good she feels.

It’s a frenzy after that, and I match her movements with thrusts from below. I know it’s enjoyable for her, based on how hard she’s trying to not make a single sound, but still lets out the tiniest little whimpers and gasps when my cock grinds against her spot, and from the way her thighs shake every single time I disappear deep into her, a small bulge forming in her lower stomach every time I pushed into her. Every clench and squeeze of her cunt drives me insane, and I can’t help the low groan slipping out of me. 

Her movements get erratic, signaling her end, and I grin at how quickly I managed to get her there. My fingers move to stroke her clit in circular motions, savoring the way I could hear her whisper my name, grinding down on my dick and chasing the feeling of my fingers on her. 

“Close?” I mumble, biting down on her shoulder lightly, which causes a louder moan to slip out of her. 

“Yes. Yes.” She whispers, breathlessly. “Please, Spencer. Oh god. Please.” 

I jut into her more rapidly, continuing the motions against her, before her walls tighten and squeeze around me, and her cunt flooding the base of my cock. I continue to move like a man possessed, swallowing the moans of her orgasm with a messy kiss, before finally, I reach my release as well, coating her walls from the inside out. 

She pants for a second, collapsing against my shoulder as she tries to catch her breath, and I stroke her hair, attempting to do the same. She moans softly, her hands wrapped around me as her eyes flutter open and shut. 

“I was wrong.” She mumbles, nuzzling into my shoulder, kissing it softly. I’m unsure about the meaning of the words, so I quietly ask her. 

“What about?” 

“You’re incredibly different from when we were in high school.” She says, softly. 

“Good or bad different? I ask, a little self consciously, which is amusing considering I’m still inside her. 

“Good. Really, really fucking good.” She clarifies, quickly, with a dazed smile. I lean in, kissing her a bit more softly now, letting my lips languidly trace over hers. 

“You too.” I murmur, and I can feel her smile against my lips.

No regrets about this one. 

WOAHHH. oh em gee. a fic! so so so deeply sorry i didn't live upto posting more fics this december and january, but i swear i'm gonna keep trying to at least get two out a month. valentines day is coming up, so you already know i'm gonna try and write something fluffy and cute for that, so look out for that. as usual, thank you so so much for any and all continued support. it seriously means the world to me and i cannot say that enough <3 i hope this fic was enjoyable. like, reblog, comment, whatever <3 just ty for reading!! <3

[catladyoftheyr]

Muscle Memory

Pt 2

Miguel O’Hara x reader

Summary: you left town for your career, but you and Miguel always end up hooking up whenever you come back home.

Warnings/ Authors note: I was listening to Muscle Memory by Kelsea Ballerini and I had a vision and had to write it down.

Warnings and other things to be aware of : SMUT (FILTHY 18+ I’m so serious), alcohol, but neither character becomes inebriated, rough sex, unprotected p in v, light choking, filming of sex, oral sex for both parties, lots of dirty talk, creampie, facial, semi public sex/exhibitionism. You’re fucking against his car in a back alley parking lot.

Word count: 2.7k

Special tag for @lazyjellyfish300 I know you wanna read it bb 🕷️🪼

You haven't been home in months, but as you walked through the entryway of the local dive, you saw that your favorite spot on the end of the bar was still open. You slid onto the stool and ordered a margarita on the rocks. You sipped your drink quietly and pulled out your phone to check your email. You moved to a larger city after college for your career, but now it felt like work followed you everywhere you went, even off the clock. You were so absorbed in work that you didn’t notice that someone had taken the seat next to you at the bar: at least until you heard a familiar voice.

“Every time I see you you’re on that damn phone”

“Some of us have jobs, Miguel.”

“I have a job, thank you very much. It’s my bar you’re sitting in if I recall.” He smirked as he said the last sentence.

“Don’t you have work to do then? Besides terrorizing paying customers?” You couldn’t help but crack a smile. Miguel might be annoying, but he was still the closest friend you had back home. He’d never resented you for leaving town, even if he’d wanted you to stay.

“You know your drinks are on the house when you come here, cariño”. He made his accent heavy when he used the pet name. He knew you had a soft spot when he spoke Spanish. Miguel motioned to the bartender and ordered you another margarita

“It seems like bad business practice to give free drinks to any beautiful woman that walks through your door. O’haras is gonna close if you keep it up” you joked, sliding your phone back in your pocket.

“Aye, only for you. How long are you staying this time?” He replied. He slid your drink in front of you, toying with the straw. The glass looked comically small next to Miguel’s large hands. Your mind drifted to the nights where his hands had been tangled in your hair, palming your breasts, and inside your-

You came back to reality when you felt Miguel playing with your bra strap under your sleeve. The song had changed to something country, and Miguel was humming in your ear. “You know what they say, tequila makes her clothes fall off” he whispered as he slid your strap further down your shoulder.

You slid your strap back in place and moved Miguel’s hand back to the bar. “You’re gonna have to do better than if you want to get in my pants tonight, Mig.” You wanted him just as badly, but weren’t ready to give in just yet. You wanted to make him work for it. “I bet you can’t beat me at pool”

Miguel let out a loud laugh and threw back his head. “That’s not even a fair fight. I’d feel terrible seeing you lose.”

“Aww is Miggy scared to lose to a girl? Sounds like you’re a chicken” you replied, knowing exactly how to rile him up. You got a thrill out of agitating Miguel, the way his forehead creased, his mouth curling downward.

“I’m telling you right now that I’m gonna wipe the floor with you,” he shot back, clearly holding back a smile. “Don’t expect me to hold back just because you suck” he chuckled.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less than the best from Miguel O’Hara.” You walked over to the pool table, sensing Miguel’s eyes trained on your ass as he ordered another round of drinks. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you it’s not polite to stare?” You called after him.

“I’m just admiring the view, baby”

If he wanted a show, you’d be sure to give him one. You made sure to raise your arms as high as you could when you reached for the pool sticks. You made sure that your shirt rode up, exposing a strip of skin above the waistband of your shorts. You handed one of the sticks to Miguel with a smug grin on your face. He bit his lip as he watched you arrange the balls in the rack; he ogled you as you deliberately arched your back bending over the table. “You can break,” you said flirtatiously.

Miguel took on a look of intense focus. You could see the way he calculated the best angle to shoot from. His t-shirt came untucked from his jeans when he moved around the table. You took in the view of his tanned skin, and the way his immense frame loomed over everything. Miguel had sunk three balls in quick succession before missing his next shot. He swore under his breath and turned to face you. “Your turn, sweetheart.”

“Come on, Mig. At least give me a chance to play before you sink everything.”

“No way! I told you I wasn’t going to go easy on you.”

You knew you didn’t stand a chance at winning; but you weren’t giving up without a fight. There weren’t any rules about distracting your opponent. You gave your shorts a gentle tug to emphasize your figure before analyzing which ball to aim for. You picked your target and leaned forward, moving your hips from side to side knowing Miguel was watching you. You took your shot slowly and watched with disappointment as the cue ball sank into a hole. “Fuck”

“Woof, a scratch on your first turn? You’re making this too easy” Miguel taunted you with a smirk. He grabbed two bottles of beer off a table and tore off the caps with his teeth, spitting them into his open palm before shoving them in his pocket. It was his favorite party trick, and he knew it turned you on. He turned back to the pool table. “Watch and learn, nena. This is how a pro does it.” He sunk two more stripes and missed the third.

That made five balls to your whopping total of zero. Time to ramp up your distraction strategy. “If you’re so good, then why don’t you help with this next shot?” You tried to sound as innocent as possible.

Miguel obliged and stood behind you, his frame towering over you. He placed his arms on yours and the heat of his body sent shockwaves down your spine. You bent together in perfect sync as Miguel showed you where to aim, saying something about keeping an eye on the ball and how to line up your shot. You weren’t listening, instead pressing your hips against his. You moved slowly and deliberately, grinding against his crotch. The friction was driving you both crazy, but neither of you wanted to be the first to admit it. Miguel stifled a moan and pressed into you even harder. Neither of you cared about pool anymore. He nipped at your ear and you tried not to squeak. The pool sticks fell to the tabletop and Miguel leaned to whisper in you ear.

“Follow me.” Miguel grabbed your hand and you both stumbled out the back door of the bar into the parking lot. Immediately he had you pressed against the brick wall of the building. His lips crashed into yours, desperate and frenzied. You kissed back and grabbed his hair in an effort to pull him even closer. His tongue found its way into mouth while you moaned into the kiss. Miguel broke the kiss only to move his lips to your neck. “You’re such a fucking tease.” His eyes bored into yours. “Every time you come home you come into my bar, practically fucking begging to end up underneath me.”

“And you it up, Miggy.” You wrapped your arms around his neck and hoisted yourself up to cross your legs behind his back. “You want me so bad; you’d do anything for this pussy.” Miguel’s hands cupped your ass, sliding under the hem of your shorts. You moaned as he kneaded your flesh expertly. He carried you over to his car while you were still wrapped around him. Miguel let you down and leaned against the hood of his car, his cock clearly straining against the denim of his jeans.

“This is what you do to me, baby. You drive me so fucking crazy.” He groaned. You rubbed his cock through the fabric, relishing the noise he made as you teased him. You unbuckled his belt and tugged down his pants and boxers. Miguel’s cock sprang free and you could barely wrap your hand around his thick girth. You were no stranger to his body but could swear he seemed bigger than you remembered. Miguel moaned loudly as you slowly your hand up and down his shaft, taking care to rub your thumb over his sensitive tip.

Whenever you and Miguel hooked up it felt natural. You’d done this so many times you both knew exactly what the other liked. Every nook and cranny, every secret spot. You knew exactly which buttons to press to drive each other wild. You picked up the pace of your strokes before kneeling to take him in your mouth. “Please baby. I need more. Need you to suck my cock.” Miguel’s voice was desperate and pleading. You licked from base to tip, tasting the salt of the precum he was leaking like a faucet. You bobbed your head up and down, struggling with his size. Miguel bucked his hips in response and you made it halfway down the length of his cock.

You came up for air and spit in your palm and began stroking the base while you sucked. Miguel groaned and you felt him wrap a hand in your hair, pushing your mouth down further. “Come on baby, I know you can take me.” Your hands fell to your sides and Miguel’s hands guided you up and down his shaft. “You’re so fucking pretty with your lips wrapped around my cock.” His pace quickened and he began to fuck your face, thrusting down your throat. He pulled out of your mouth and started stroking himself. “Fuckkk I’m gonna cum. Open your mouth for me, baby.” You closed your eyes and stuck out your tongue, feeling ropes of semen hit your face and tongue. You licked your lips, tasting the salt and sweat. You opened your eyes to see Miguel had his phone out. “Smile for me, hermosa. You look so pretty with my cum on your face I want to remember this” he cooed while snapping pictures.

Miguel helped you up off your knees and swiped his fingers softly across your face before popping them into his mouth to clean them. He kissed you again before pressing you face down against the hood of his car. You felt his large hand palming against your pussy through your shorts. “Mmmplease, Mig. Don’t tease me like this.” He kept rubbing, pressing the fabric into your folds.

“You’ve been teasing me all night, baby. Paybacks a bitch.” Miguel crouched down and kissed your pussy through your denim shorts; You felt him massage your ass while he pressed his mouth against you. He pressed down firmly as you squirmed under his touch, desperately trying to increase the friction. “Stop fucking wiggling.” He yanked your shorts down so the only thing between him and your cunt was the thin fabric of your thong. He rubbed your clit through your panties and you gasped.

“Please, baby. I need more” you moaned breathlessly. He picked up the pace, making quick circles around your bud with his large fingers. You felt the pleasure building steadily as Miguel worked his magic. “Ah! I’m almost there. Keep going, Miggy!” Just as the words left your mouth he stopped, leaving you hanging on the edge of your orgasm. “What the fuck was that for?!” You turned to face him and saw a shit eating grin on his face. “It’s not fucking funny, Mig” you groaned.

“I told you, payback is a bitch. You don’t get to cum until I say you can, baby.” You sighed and Miguel pressed you against the car hood again with one hand, using the other to push your panties to the side. He slid one thick finger into you and moved it slowly in and out. “You’re so fucking wet for me baby. And so tight. I’m gonna stretch this pussy out” he cooed, adding a second finger. “That’s it, baby.” He knelt down again and you felt him trade his fingers for his tongue. He darted in and out of your entrance, and you flooded with wetness. “You taste so fucking good”. Miguel continued licking, kissing, and sucking every fold of your slit. The pleasure building up was starting to become unbearable; you had no idea how you were going to be able to hold back. Then Miguel said the magic words: “Cum for me, cariño” he purred, sucking on your clit as if his life depended on it.

You let yourself fall over the edge and you gasped as your orgasm overtook you. Waves of pleasure racked your body and you found yourself speechless. You were coming down from the rush when you felt the tip of Miguel’s cock poking at your entrance. “It’s too big” you moaned, already feeling the stretch from just the tip.

“Shhh, it’s okay. You’ve done this before. You’re so good at taking me, baby.” Miguel replied, pressing in another inch of his girth. He grunted as he felt you stretching around him. “Your pussy is so good. You make me feel so good.” Miguel wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you up to his chest, pushing his cock in further. He grabbed your hair and turned your face toward him to kiss you again. The kiss deepened and became frenzied as you felt him going deeper and deeper until he finally bottomed out inside of you. You felt so full you couldn’t believe he fit inside of you.

“Your cock is so fucking big, Miggy. I need you to fuck me.” You moaned, not caring if anyone else was around. Miguel took your words to heart and immediately started pumping in and out, your wetness running down your thighs. He kept a steady pace, hitting the sweet spot inside of you with every thrust. “Fuck me harder” you cried, cockdrunk.

Miguel pulled out and flipped you over, dragging you both to the side of his car. He pulled out his phone again and pressed record before reentering you. “Put on a show for me baby, show the camera how good I make you feel.” You moaned louder, happy to show off for him. Miguel pushed up your shirt to expose your tits and palmed them roughly with one hand. He groped and squeezed, pinching and rolling your nipples between his digits.

“Fuck, Miggy. You feel so good. Keep going”

“You’re taking this cock so well, baby. The camera loves you. You’re such a little slut for me I love it.” He pumped harder, hitting your cervix with his tip. His spare hand moved from your chest to your throat and he squeezed lightly. You let out a moan and felt pleasure start to build in your core again. You used one hand to start rubbing circles on your clit while Miguel was thrusting. “That’s it, baby. Rub it out for me. You’re taking my cock so well.”

“M-mig I’m close. I’m gonna cum” you squeaked out, the circles on your clit becoming more frantic.

“Go on, nena. Cum on my cock. Show me how pretty you look when you’re cumming for me.” Miguel’s encouragement pushed you over the edge and your second orgasm ripped through your body. You felt yourself clench tighter around his cock and he thrusted harder, taking his hand off your throat and using it to steady you against the side of the car. “I’m gonna cum, baby. I’m gonna put a baby in you, then you can’t leave me again.” Miguel gave one final thrust before you felt him release, spilling his seed inside of you. He grunted before pulling out slowly.

“That was so good, mig. I remember why I come back to this place when I’m in town now” you joked, pulling your clothes back into place. Miguel finished redressing himself and planted a soft kiss on your forehead.

“Yeah? Well maybe you should come home more often then.”

[bugboioli23]

Swerve x Human!Reader

Disclaimer: I haven't written fic for a few years so my skills are gonna be a bit shit to be honest, any criticism is welcome and id love to hear what you guys think 💚

THIS IS 18+ - size difference, valveplug, oral sex, fingerfucking, doggy style, riding - 2911 words - AFAB reader but no pronouns are used

You and Swerve had been friends since you stepped foot on the Lost Light. Something about his chatterbox personality and sitcom-like humor had you beaming whenever you were around him. The best nights were spent perched on the edge of the bar counter, rambling for hours on end with Swerve. Tonight was one of those nights. It was after the doors had closed, the bar empty and silent aside from the laughter ricocheting from the both of you. 

“Really?!” You yelped, eyes wide in surprise as you stared at the grinning minibot.

“I'm telling you! You wouldn't believe the amount of mechs who come by here asking for you!” Swerve replied with a chuckle, shaking his helm in shared disbelief. “Not only that but they actually think they could frag you! I'm probably one of the few bots on here who could frag you full sized.” Swerve paused, face freezing for a second as he quickly backtracked on his statement. “I mean- not that we would- NOT THAT I WOULDN'T WANT TO- I'm sure you’d make a lovely frag- NOT LIKE THAT- I JUST MEANT- im sorry- ” Swerve seemed to shrink in on himself as he continued to mumble to himself anxiously.

Your face burned red at the idea. The thought of a bot being stuffed between your folds, trembling at the foreign sensation of the wet flesh of your cunt. You wondered about the anatomy that laid hidden under the panels of your metallic friends. How similar are you compared to them? Just how compatible are your species? You already had gotten an enlightening talk from Brainstorm about Cybertronian anatomy after you explained human anatomy to him. (For his holoforms of course. No other reason.) You knew what you could take, but the fresh reality that this could happen left blood rushing south. 

“Uhm…  ____? You good? I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable or anything. I should’ve kept my mouth shut, I’m sorry.” Swerve looked at you apologetically. His light pout and the puppy eyes you could barely see behind his visor brought forth images that made warmth surge through your body once more. How would Swerve act if you asked him to fuck you? He seemed like the type of Cybertronian who wouldn’t mind a little experimenting with humans. He seemed like the type to whimper; the type to beg. 

Heat flushed through your face as reality caught back up to you. You flashed him a bright smile and waved your hand dismissively.

“Don’t worry about me, I’m alright. Just thinking.” You glanced at Swerve, who looked unconvinced. “Hey, weren’t you and Blurr going to open a bar before you came here?” You asked out of nowhere, hoping to turn his attention onto something else. It seemed to work because he was already telling you about how Blurr was secretly his best friend. While the bartender was distracted, you let your thoughts turn back to the ideas at hand. You found Swerve to be adorable, the way he seemed to always work with a smile despite people talking poorly about him. His fascination with your species’ tv and music and how he would light up when you offered another film for movie nights. After tonight’s conversation, you decided it’s now or never to shoot your shot with him.

“Swerve?” You looked him up and down with a smile, interjecting his speech on Blurr’s latest record break. “Do you think fragging a human would be possible?” You spoke sweetly, letting your voice fall an octave to emphasize your intentions. 

“Uhm, wouldn't Ratchet be better at answering that than I would?” Swerve thought he was hearing things. In his mind there was no possible way that you just asked what you had asked. His head must've made that up. It had to be some kind of self inflicted auditory hallucination. The way you smiled softly and rested a hand on his arm before leaning closer must also be a trick of the optics.

“Swerve, darling. I asked you for a reason.” You replied coyly, glancing up at him with an endearing grin. He felt his intake hitch and a sliver of charge run down his frame. 

“Oh.” He choked out, face tinted with the rush of energon. His cooling fans kicked on with just the mere suggestion of what tonight could entail. “I- I suppose we could- figure it out…” He grinned shyly.

“That’s a good mech.” You purred, wide grin never faltering as you hopped down from the counter. You sauntered out of the bar with a new sense of confidence, only pausing to gesture to him to follow before the doors closed behind you. Swerve had to take a minute to collect his thoughts before practically sprinting after you.

Your habsuite was uniquely modified for your species. Instead of a hard metal berth, you had a cushy soft bed adorned with a mass of plushies, pillows and blankets. Soft lighting glowed from lower points in the room instead of one harsh light from above. It had your special charm to it, and Swerve wanted to spend every moment he could in there with you. 

“So,” You started plopping yourself down on the edge of your bed, patting the spot next to you, “I’m going to skip all the pleasantries here, I want you to fuck me.”

Swerve let out a whine, feeling a surge of arousal flooding through his systems. His spike pressurized quickly, becoming heavy behind his panels with an embarrassingly loud thud. “Did you have to be so bold about it?” He hissed through clenched dentae as you gazed at him with desire. 

“I think it’s more fun to watch your reactions.” You hummed contentedly before climbing into his lap, “Can I kiss you? Would that be okay?” You spoke softly, but your eyes never left his face. Swerve nodded hastily, servos hovering above your body anxiously. His intake opened to start a flood of questions but you cut him off with a kiss, exploring the foreign texture of his pliable metallic face. The strange rubbery feeling of his glossa felt wonderfly new against the soft muscle of your tongue. You let out a soft noise of pleasure against his mouth before you were interrupted by a snap of panels retracting and an enticing pressure laying heavy on your thigh. 

“Oh- Slag, sorry I- you’re so- I wasn’t able to-,” Swerve began, but you pressed a finger to his lips as you looked down to study the new part of him. It was about 8 inches long, the red tip of it already leaking prefluids. It was mostly white, with a stripe of red along the underside decorated with biolights which pulsed needily. You trailed your hand lightly along the length, your fingers barely unable to touch around the girth of it. You looked back up at Swerve who was hiding behind his servos, face tinted pink with energon. 

“Listen… I know I’m not as big as other bots but please… don’t stop whatever you were planning to do.” Swerve mumbled shyly, peeking at you between his digits.

“Oh, hun. You don’t have to worry about anything. You’ve got more than enough for me to enjoy.” You smiled, sliding off his lap to kneel between his legs. “May I?” You asked, wanting to explore his anatomy further. 

He let out a shaky exvent with a nod and you ran your fingers along the grooves and panels of the Cybertronian anatomy. It wasn’t until you had gotten eye level with his spike that you had noticed his valve. It was dripping with transfluid and the hooded node was glowing a beautiful blue. You looked up at him from your position, eyes full of lust. 

“Change of plans. Lean back for me, I’ve gotta taste you.” You purred, firmly pushing against his midsection lightly as he rested his back against the wall of pillows. You gently pushed his thighs open and trailed two fingers against the slick folds of his valve, coating your fingers in the sticky substance. You studied your digits before popping them into your mouth. The pink fluid was metallic and sour, but addicting in a strange way. You wanted more. Spreading his folds with one hand, you delved into his valve. Swerve watched, entranced by the way you slid the flat of your tongue against him. The sensation made him let out soft groans, which encouraged you more. You took your other hand and gently circled his anterior node, ghosting the edges of it teasingly. Your tongue dove into his entrance and you felt the inner calipers twitch and throb with need. 

“Oh frag… you’re good a-at this. I’m- hnghh… I don’t have enough stamina for t-this!” Swerve whined as you moved the hand separating his folds and you backed away from his plush valve.

“Don’t worry, you are doing so good. Just lie back and let me take care of you, okay?” You cooed and went back to lapping at the transfluid that fell from his folds. One hand finally gave his anterior node pressure while your other hand went up to stroke at his spike lazily. The result of your combined actions had Swerve clawing at the sheets, his intake falling open as he gasped and mewled out so many words you couldn’t tell what he was saying until it was too late. 

Warm fluid gushed over your face as he overloaded while you were still tongue deep in his valve. His spike throbbed in your hand as you felt more transfluid land in your hair and shoulder. 

“FRAG- Ah- hah…!” Swerve whined as his frame trembled through the aftershocks. “Oh slag im so sorry!” His visor came back online just in time to witness your mouth and jaw covered in dripping pink fluids.

You licked your lips and wiped your face with your shirt before taking it off and tossing it aside. “Hey.. hey no worries. It’s okay. You’re okay.” You kissed his cheek, patting his thigh softly. “You did amazing. I’m so glad I could make you feel good.” 

Swerve let out another high whine, seeing your chest bare before him. He slowly raised his servos to graze the flesh around your nipples. You sighed softly and raised your hands to press his servos more firmly to your skin. Swerve was still panting from his previous overload but he leaned in to press his lips gently against your sternum. His servos wandered up to press and massage at your nipples, circling them like you did to his node earlier. Your back arched, pushing your chest further into his servos as your mouth fell open softly. Swerve looked up at you, visor glowing with excitement and awe. “You’re stunning. I mean- frag, look at you, coated with my overload. Mine…” He breathed out, eyes trailing down your body to rest at your pants. He seemed to swallow before shakily continuing. “D-Do you still want me t-to..you know.. t-”

“I still want you to fuck me, Swerve.” You finished for him, moving your hands to swiftly undo the buttons of your pants, pulling off your undergarments at the same time and tossing them behind you. You grabbed onto his wrist and guided his fingers up towards your wet folds. Swerve got the hint and gently worked one finger into the tight heat of your cunt. He could feel the gentle pulse and pull of your walls around his digit, and he could barely imagine what it would feel like around his spike. After he felt you loosen up a bit, he slid in a second digit. You let out a gasp and a soft groan at the stretch, knowing that this was just the beginning if you wanted to be prepared to take his spike. 

Swerve gently curled and flexed his digits, exploring your sex thoroughly as his processor worked overtime to memorize which movements felt the best for you. His audials turned to max sensitivity to be sure he could hear every whine and murmur of praise that fell from your lips. He could feel the second rush of energon repressurising his spike the more he pumped his digits into you. You glanced down between the both of you to smirk at his array before leaning in and pressing another kiss to his jaw.

“Awh, look at you,” You cooed, lifting your hips up to grind the tip of his spike against your clit. Swerve let out a strained whine as his hips bucked up involuntarily. Your smirk only grew. “You’re such a pretty mech for me.”

“Hnf s-stop…” Swerve whispered bashfully, turning his helm away as energon rushed to his faceplates once more.

“I mean it.” You continued, slowly easing yourself down on his spike as you guided his gaze to meet yours. Swerve’s intake fell open and his spinal struts arched as your body enveloped his length. His servos flew to your hips when he finally bottomed out inside you. The heat of your cunt pressed upon every sensor and node on his spike with such certainty that he could barely concentrate on your words. 

“Hhoh fraggghh, how are you s-so- so-ooHHFRAG-” Swerve had started to speak but you decided that now was the time to lift your hips and slam yourself back down. You started to ride the mech like an animal, your hips popping up halfway only to quickly push him back inside. Swerve let out a chorus of moans and yelps as his servos twitched against the soft plush of your thighs, squeezing every now and then to ground himself. It wasn’t until your legs started to burn that you were reminded of something. You quickly stopped your movements and grinned down at Swerve as he abruptly gasped and looked at you with a beautiful expression of desperation. 

“Wh-why- why’dya stop?” Swerve asked, his speech slurred from the sudden absence of pleasure.

“Sorry, but I just remembered that you’re the one who’s supposed to be fucking me.” You pulled yourself off of his spike and he let out a pathetic mewl at the loss of your body. His pout was quickly wiped from his face when he witnessed you getting down on all fours and slyly shaking your hips at him. You turned to smirk over your shoulder at him as he gawked at you. Not another second had passed before Swerve was on top of you, his spike easily finding its way back into your slick folds. He started pounding into you, the weight of his body pressing down nicely on your back as he mounted you.

“Mnh, there you go, good boy Swerve.” You moaned out as his spike pistoned in and out of you, shoving your body into the mattress. Swerve was brought to a mindless ramble as your pussy sucked him in deeper and tightened around him.

“Ahfraggingprimusyouretight-“ Swerve whimpered as you clenched around him harder. Your body trembled as you felt his spike throb inside you. Swerve hovered over you, intertwining his servos over your fingers as he thrust into you rapidly. “F-Frag, ____ I’m not gonna l-last much longer-“

“Good, keep going. I want you to fill me with your transfluid. Overload in me like the good mech you are.” You grinned against the mattress, turning to look at him smugly, reaching down between your legs to rub at your clit. Swerve leaned down to mewl and whine against the back of your neck as he chased his own pleasure, pushing your hips further up with every pump of his hips. 

“Fuck, Swerve- I’m-!“ You felt your eyes roll back at the drag of his thickness against your walls and you let out a filthy moan as you hit your climax. You felt the slick of your cum coat his panels as your sex tightened  around him. The whimper that left his vocalizer was angelic as he let his spike empty itself within you. Thick ropes of transfluid coated your insides, the warm sensation of sheer fullness bringing you back down from your high. Your body continued to pulse around his spike, milking him of the last of his overload as he gave a few final lazy thrusts. 

The two of you lay there panting for a while before he slowly pulled out of you, watching in awe as his cum started to slide down your thighs. You slowly turned and sat up, feeling your combined fluids seeping out of you and onto the sheets. 

“Ah… that was… let me get you a towel.” Swerve gasped, stepping to the closet to grab a towel to wipe you down with, wetting it with warm water before gently cleaning you. He lifted and placed you on the other side of the bed, putting the used towel over the wet spot after cleaning and closing his panels. 

You stared at the red and white mech with unveiled adoration as he finally sat next to you again. You leaned in and peppered his face with kisses as he gently rubbed your thigh. 

“Swerve, you do know how to keep your mouth shut about some things, right?” You murmured sleepily, hoping the bartender could keep his mouth shut for at least a week or two before word got out that the human is a mechfucker.

“Uhuh, yeah. Definitely.” Swerve nodded with determination. You sighed with a small smile, already accepting that your next appearance in the bar would not be the same after this.

[lambtotheslaughterr]

One Way Or Another

A Rafe Cameron Oneshot

[THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THEMES OF NON-CON/DUB-CON, MENTAL-EMOTIONAL-PHYSICAL ABUSE, ETC. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 18+. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]

WC: 16.5k (just for a second, holy fuck. spent all day writing this. from 10 am to 8pm. i am feeling good & feel like i'm on a writer's high. thank you to all of you who made this happen: 62 pages of pure dark fiction)

Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics

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Summary: Reader's life couldn't be any better. She's working her dream job, living with her best friend, & may have met the one... but none of those things matter when her bestfriend/roommate begins seeing a volatile man from reader's past...

            It was Coyote Ugly night at your work, & you made sure to request the night off weeks in advance. There would be nothing to stop you from singing your heart out to the soundtrack of the movie as it played in the bar or dancing on the bar with your friends, not even having your coworkers & boss witnessing it all unfold. Ever since you were a little girl, you wanted to be a bartender all because of the film. It inspired your fashion choices, your music tastes, & most importantly, your attitude.

            As soon as you turned 21, you applied to every single bar in your area. And before that, you practiced your cocktail making, just enough to at least get hired. You knew without experience, it was difficult to land a job as a bartender. If you had to accept a position working at a hotel bar or fine dining bar, you’d take it, anything to get the experience, but your long-term goal was to find a bar with the same energy & vibes as your favorite movie. Your wish came true a year later.

            The Garage was just that. It was inside an old auto-shop with three large garage doors. During summer nights, those doors would be raised & they led out into the enclosed patio area where a stage had been built for nights when live music would be happening. The owner, as much as you wanted it to be a tough-as-nails woman like Lil in Coyote, was an older man in his 50’s named Rosie. Yes, Rosie. His full name Roosevelt but he had been going by Rosie since he entered the bar business. It was your first favorite thing about him.

            Rosie ran a tight-knit crew at The Garage. He was a no-bullshit haver but knew how to have a good time. It was him who trained you behind the bar, switching you up from making prissy, fancy shit & teaching you how to make a real drink, as he said. You loved him. And you loved your family there. Everyone accepted you & welcomed you with open arms & cold beer. It was all you could have ever dreamed for. And now, you were going to live out your ultimate fantasy.

            It thankfully didn’t take a whole lot of convincing on your part to get Rosie to agree to a Coyote Ugly night. You advocated for how it would bring in a good crowd, good money, & good times. Moreover, you promised to do all the leg work. You would take it upon yourself to work alongside the social media handler, Rosie’s daughter Angie who worked in the office alongside her father, to get word out & generate interest. A week before the event was supposed to happen, you had a guaranteed 100+ people wanting to attend. There was no RSVP, but just an event page on Facebook, & your work had paid off. The night was happening, & you would be at the center of it all.

            At your apartment that night, you got ready for the night. You admired your look in the mirror, scenes from the bar film playing through your mind. You smiled proudly at yourself. You look damn good.

            But your night would only be complete if you convinced your best friend, & roommate, to come with. As far as that morning, she was still on the fence. But the time was now. She was either coming or not, & if you had anything to say about it, she would be forced along.

            Leaving your room, you skipped down the hallway before turning a corner & entering the living room. Jules’ room was just off the living room, kitty corner from your room on the other side of the apartment. You were grateful for the distance, but only because you both were sexually active women & didn’t need to hear each other get your kicks in.

            Jules’ door was open & you swung around the frame, poking your head in.

            “Tell me you’re coming!” You hollered, noticing the door to her en suite bathroom was open & the light on, but she was out of sight.

            “Uhhh.” Jules laughed awkwardly, “No?”

            No? N O ?Well. You wouldn’t be having that.

            Entering her room, you marched up to her bathroom entryway, prepared to bribe her into coming, but before you could get a word out, you felt your jaw drop onto the floor.

            Jules stood in the center of her bathroom, posing with her hand on her hips & hiding her coy smile behind a lifted shoulder.

            “Wow.” You grinned, impressed, “You look fucking hot.”

            She was wearing a torn cropped lack crop top, the sleeves & hem shredded, & a mini, mini black leather skirt. To bring the whole look together, she wore a pair of black cowgirl boots & a black cowgirl hat. You giggled at the bolo tie around her neck.

            “Do I look like someone not to be fucked with?”

            “Hundred percent.”

            Jules scrunched her nose cutely, turning to look at herself in the mirror, “Good.”

            You joined her in the mirror, double checking your own look. You definitely didn’t look as man-eater as she did but you were still happy with what you wore. The two of you would undoubtedly be some of the hottest women there tonight.

            “Ready?” You questioned as you applied some of her lipstick to your mouth.

            Jules winked at herself in the mirror, “As I’ll ever be.”

            The night was in full swing as you danced among people. Dirrty by Christina Aguilera vibrated the room as you swung your hips & ran your hands along the length of your torso. Never before have you felt more like yourself than you did in that moment. Everywhere you looked there was women in backless tops, leather pants or denim skirts, a plethora of country rock fashion choices, & plenty of good-looking men. The only thing that would make this night better was bringing a stranger home for the night.

            Sweat coated your skin as you moved off the dance floor between songs. You had curated the playlist for the night. There was over 150 songs on the queue, all of which were either from the soundtrack or had a similar, fitting feel for the night. You knew that any moment Pour Some Sugar On Me by Def Leppard would come on & you were determined to drag Jules onto the bartop with you.

            Sliding between the sea of people, you eventually spotted Jules standing at a tall table near the patio entrance. She was facing you but hadn’t noticed you yet as she spoke flirtatiously with the man standing across from her. He had his back to you & was leaning over the table to hear what your roommate was saying. Jules laughed, smacking him gently on his arm. You knew that you wouldn’t be the only one bringing a man home tonight.

            As apologetic as you were to break up their conversation though, you had a goal in mind, & no potential suitor for your roommate was going to stop you.

            “Jules!” You greeted happily as you jumped towards her, “It’s almost time.”

            “Oh, hey, _____.” Jules smiled at you, “_____, this is Rafe.”

            But before she had even said his name, you were already looking him over & felt your world slow down at the familiar face standing before you.

            It had been a couple years since you last saw Rafe Cameron. You two were in the same grade in high school & attended a lot of the same parties, but you two never spoke to one another. He had a reputation in the halls as a cokehead & was known to snap at a moment’s notice & get into a brawl over the smallest of things. Definitely wasn’t the kind of person you wanted to hangout with. But you had to admit he knew how to throw good parties.

            “Rafe, this is my roommate _____.”

            Rafe smirked at you before offering his hand, “Nice to meet you.”

            You took his hand, ignoring the static shock you received when touching your palms together, “Likewise.”

            Jules was about to say more but the opening instrumentals to your most-anticipated song of the night began playing over the speakers.

            “Sorry, Rafe. I gotta steal her for a couple minutes.” Before Jules could resist, you began dragging her towards the bar.

            “Hey! I was talking to him!”

            “Talk to him later, this is way more important.”

            Jules then realized what was happening & started shaking her head knowingly, “You’re lucky I fucking adore you.”

            “The luckiest.” You smiled back.

            The two of you were quick to climb onto the bar where a few other women were already dancing to Pour Some Sugar On Me. Jules & you were naturals at dancing, having many dance nights in your living room. You danced sensually to the song as it blared over the speakers. Your cheeks hurt from smiling as hard as you were, enjoying the ooh’s & awe’s of men & women alike as they cheered all the women on. You spotted a few of your coworkers behind the bar filming you on their phones. You’d be sure to get those videos sent to you before the night was out.

            Jules slowly fell to her knees to whip her hair around her as she bumped & grinded the air to the music. You reached behind the bar to grab a pitcher of water & did the honors of pouring water on her as the first chorus blasted. Jules’ dancing & your pouring elicited an eruption of cheers. When the first chorus was over, Jules returned to her feet & the two of you danced seductively against one another. All eyes were on the two of you as you stole the show. Your lifelong dream of being a Coyote was coming true before your own eyes.

The song continued & by the time the final chorus came it was your turn to have everyone cheer for you. Jules’ was handed another pitcher of water & as the famous Pour Some Sugar On Me chorus began, you modeled yourself atop the bar. Your butt was down & your legs extended out the length of the bar. You were facing up, your arms holding you up behind your back, your legs bent at the knees. Then as the titular moment of the song happened, Jules poured the ice cold water over you.

A wave of cheers & enthusiasm erupted throughout the bar. When Jules finished pouring the water, you repositioned yourself to crawl along the length of the bar, catching eyes & stealing hearts. You spotted one man sitting at the bar, his eyes never leaving your own. He was cute, more than cute, he was Kevin O’Donnell cute. Your Coyote Ugly dreams were demanding you to end your performance in his lap.

The man grinned to himself as you swung your legs around to dangle off the bar on either side of him. He leaned back in his seat to stare up at you, a closed smirk across his handsome features. As the song closed, you slid off the bar & into his lap. With no introductions needed, you tangled your fingers in his hair at the nape of his neck & brought his mouth to yours, sealing the night with a kiss from a perfect stranger.

            His name was Jack. He was new to town. You were happy to be his welcoming committee.

            “What you did up there was…” He laughed, raising his brows in knowing.

            “I know.” You giggled, nursing your drink.

            After your kiss, Jack insisted on buying you a drink & you couldn’t say no. Jules’ hugged you once before returning to her object of desire. You were too distracted by your own man to question her own.

            “So, you work here?” Jack asked, looking around the place.

            You nodded proudly, taking in the environment, “It’s my second home.”

            “I like the energy. Seems fun.”

            “It is.” You confirmed, “Couldn’t have asked for a better place to work.”

            The two of you talked for a bit longer before you were interrupted. Jules slid in beside you at the table you & Jack were sat at, & her man for the night, the reputable bad boy from your high school, took the spot opposite her. You didn’t miss how his eyes lingered on your face for some time. You frowned internally but ultimately ignored it as you turned to your best friend.

            “Are you drunk?” You asked incredulously. It took a lot to get Jules drunk, she was a prime time heavy weight, & she was fine when you saw her only ten minutes ago.

            Jules pressed her lips together, smiling knowingly up at you, “Maybe.”

            “What the hell did you drink?” You chuckled as she rested her head on your shoulders.

            “We took a couple shots at the bar.” Rafe added to the conversation. You flashed your eyes towards him, taking in his appearance.

            “You look fine.” You pointed out, yet your heavy weight best friend was growing more drunk by the second.

            “I just hide it better.” Rafe smirked. His face was flushed. And after working in the bar industry for the last two years, you did know men’s bodies handled liquor better than women’s. So, you let it go.

            “Do you wanna head home?” You shook Jules.

            She shrugged but her eyes were fluttering closed.

            You felt disappointed but didn’t show it. The night was still young, you had yet to even partake in the karaoke aspect of the night, but Jules wasn’t going to last much longer, chugging water be damned.

            “Jack,” you glanced across to him, “I’m sorry, I’m gonna have to get her home.”

            “I understand.” He nodded, pulling out his phone, “Let me at least get your number. Maybe you can give me a tour of town.”

            You smiled at that, sharing your number to him out loud. Once he entered it into his phone, you told him you looked forward to his call & began to get out of your seat. But as you did, your world began to spin.

            “Whoa.” You mumbled, catching yourself on the table. You must’ve had more to drink than you thought.

            “You alright?” Jack asked, rising to his full height to help stabilize you.

            You nodded but you weren’t, “I’m a lightweight. Guess I drank more than I thought I had.”

            Jack grabbed your jacket, “Do I need to order you a Lyft?”

            You shook the offer away. But you couldn’t drive. Jules didn’t have a car so it was you who got the two of you there tonight. You glanced over your shoulder at the bar, wondering if maybe you could convince one of your coworkers to give you a ride but they were still slammed. The bar wouldn’t die down for a couple more hours.

            “I’m sorry, Jack. Would it be shitty of me to ask you to drive my drunk ass & my roommate’s drunk ass home?”

            Jack chuckled at that but ultimately shook his head no, “I don’t have a car. Don’t really need one here, ya know.”

            You nodded at that. It was true.

            “Fuck.” You moaned. Your head was growing dizzier by the second.

            Most times you would bite the bullet & cough up the money to pay for an expensive Lyft, but with rent due in two days, you didn’t have the funds. And you didn’t work tonight so no tips would help.

            “I can drive you.” A voice sounded from the other end of the table. Both you & Jack looked towards Rafe as he pulled out his keys.

            “I thought you had a lot to drink, too?” Jack questioned. You were relieved he wasn’t too trusting of Rafe immediately either.

            “Not really.” Rafe returned, his eyes on you though, “You want the ride or not? She looks like she’s gonna be sick any minute.”

            At that statement, you bent over to look at Jules. He was right. Her skin was looking ashen & she was frowning in her sleep. The last you wanted to worry about was her puking before you got her to her bed with a bowl on the floor.

            “Okay.” You nodded, accepting your jacket from Jack’s hands. “Thanks.”

            Jack helped you gather the rest of yours & Jules’ things. He attempted to help you carry her outside but your legs were beginning to grow weaker, your strength quickly dissipating.

            “I got it.” Jack reassured you as he lifted Jules into his arms cradle style.

            “Hey, uh.” Jack looked towards Rafe.

            “Rafe.” He shared his name. Jack nodded then gestured to where you stood leaning against the wall, “Wanna help her?”

            You raised your head at that. Rafe approached you, offering his hand.

            “I got it.” You faked, forcing yourself to stand up. Rafe made an unimpressed face but you ignored it. Just outside the door to the parking lot though you felt your knees buckle. Before you could hit the ground, you felt a strong & firm arm catch you around the waist.

            “Just lean on me. My truck’s right there.”

            As much as you didn’t want Rafe’s help, still unsure why you were feeling hostile towards him, you knew you needed to. Accepting his help, you leaned into his side as he kept you on your feet. A truck a few feet away beeped & the headlights flashed. Jack was ahead the two of you, waiting for Rafe to help him get Jules’ into the back seat.

            Rafe first brought you to the passenger side, helping you up into the cab. Your movements were slow & languid, like you were already half asleep. You shook your head, trying to clear your mind enough to fasten your belt, but before you could, Rafe reached across your front to secure the protective strap.

            “Thanks.” You mumbled, avoiding his eyes.

            “No problem.” He shut your door gently before joining Jack on the other side. You vaguely listened as the two men got Jules into the backseat before the door shut.

            By the time they finished, Rafe was quick to hop into the driver’s seat. You were holding your head in your hands, trying to keep your vision from swimming. Fuck, you really needed to keep better track of your drinking, but you were just having too much fun.

            The door to your side opened & Jack was there, “You gonna be okay?”

            You hummed in response, not trusting yourself to speak, worried that your speech would be slurred.

            “Okay. Text me when you make it home safely. I’ll text you right now.”

            All you could manage was to give him a thumbs up.

            “Alright.” Jack nodded then he looked towards Rafe, “Make sure they get home safe, man.”

            “Yup.” The engine roared to life as he pressed a button on the dashboard.

            “I’ll see you later, _____.”

            You wanted to return the parting but Jack closed the door. The truck jostled beneath you as Rafe drove through the gravel lot.

            “What’s your address?” Rafe asked.

            Pulling out your phone, you languidly types in your address into the maps app. You hit ‘start’ & handed your phone to Rafe.

            The ride was mostly silent until the final couple minutes of it.

            “I remember you, ya know.” Rafe commented. You forced your eyes open at that. It wasn’t that you thought he would remember you or not, but you didn’t want to have one of those walk-down-memory-lane conversations with someone you knew was problematic in high school. Times changed everyone, you supposed. You weren’t always the confident & extroverted woman you were today. Perhaps Rafe had changed, too.

            “Yeah?” You responded. Thankfully, you didn’t sound as drunk as you felt.

            “Yeah, you dated that Junior kid for a while.”

            “Mm.” You had forgotten about Junior. You weren’t one of those people that considered high school boyfriends as real relationships. After all, the two of you only dated for two months your senior year.

            “What I remember most is your guys’ dramatic breakup at Phil’s prom after-party.”

            You frowned at that. That whole night was a messy blur in your memory. You remembered prom fine but the after-party was another story. You had always been a lightweight, but as you thought on it, you vaguely remembered catching Junior dancing with another girl that night.

            The memory resulted in a light chuckle from you, “Oh, yeah. Well…he was an asshole.”

            Rafe shared in your chuckle, nodding in agreement, “Yeah, he was.”

            “So, Jack, huh?”

            His sudden change in conversation made you finally look at him in the dark. The streetlights you passed under were doing little to light his face.

            “Jack?”

            “Think he’ll be any better than Junior?” Rafe questioned.

            What did that even matter?

            Searching for the right words through your addled brain proved difficult, but you eventually found them, “I don’t know… not like I’m going to date him seriously.”

            “No?” Rafe flicked his eyes to yours, “Why not?”

            Okay, you were not going to have this conversation with Rafe of all people.

            Ignoring his question, you were relieved when Rafe pulled into the parking lot of your apartment complex. But the night wasn’t quite over. You knew you wouldn’t be able to get Jules upstairs & into your apartment on your own.

            But as if he was reading your mind, Rafe switched the truck off & unbuckled his belt. He hopped out & you watched through the windshield as he rounded to your side. When he opened the door, you moved to get out but was stopped by the belt you still wore. Oh, right.

            Rafe beat you to it though, reaching around your front for a second time to release the buckle. You felt a chill riddle up your spine when his thumb grazed against your front, just above the top of your shorts. Rafe then placed a hand on your hip & guided you out of the truck. Even though it wasn’t a lifted truck, it sure felt like it as Rafe helped you climb out & down.

            “Good?”

            You nodded in response, wanting to keep your words few & far between.

            Next, you followed him around to the other side of the truck. You noticed that you weren’t as drunk as you were when you left. Your head was still pounding & your vision was still swimming, but at least you could hold yourself up now.

            Rafe swung open the door to the back & began gently pulling out Jules. She mumbled in her drunken sleep as he slung her over his shoulder.

            “If you want to lead the way, I can carry her.”

            “Thanks.” You sighed, desperate to get inside & crash into your bed.

            Inside the secure building, you used your key fob to alert the elevator of your presence. When the three of you loaded on, you pressed the lit up button for 5.

            “Thank god for elevators, right.” Rafe joked as he shifted Jules to piggyback him. Fortunately, she hung on.

            Once you reached your floor, you sped walked ahead to your door & swung it open. Rafe passed you by.

            “Take a right at the corner & her bedroom is at the end, off the living room.”

            Rafe followed your directions in the dark. You turned on the lights behind him as he went, hoping he didn’t bump into anything or accidentally drop Jules because of it. He managed to swing her door open & enter her room, you were right behind them.

            Rafe turned to face you before bending his knees to lower Jules closer to the bed. Once she was close enough, Rafe let her go. Jules groaned again at the sudden drop, her eyes fluttering open briefly before closing again. You entered her bathroom to dampen one of her hand towels.

            When you re-entered her room, you paused, watching silently as Rafe tucked Jules’ legs under the covers of her bed. He glanced up, likely having feeling you watching him, & shrugged.

            “I can’t sleep without a blanket of some sort when I’m drunk.”

            You nodded, mustering a smile. Approaching Jules, Rafe moved out of the way. You placed the damp rag on her forehead, hoping it’d help her feel less sick if she did end up throwing up in the middle of the night.

            “Would you mind doing me a favor?” You asked Rafe, glancing at him over your shoulder.

            “Sure, what’s up?”

            “Above the fridge in the kitchen are big bowls. Can you bring one?”

            Rafe nodded & left the room. You listened intently until you heard him in the kitchen.

            “Grab a glass of water, too, please!” You hollered.

            The faucet began running in the distance, so you took the time to lift Jules’ sheets. You overlooked her body, ensuring that Rafe didn’t do any weird shit when you were in the bathroom. But nothing looked out of place. Even her cowgirl boots were still on. Chuckling lightly to yourself, you quickly removed them from her feet before tucking her legs back under the covers.

            It wasn’t that you were a man-hater, you loved men. But recalling all the rumors surrounding Rafe in high school, & how even despite that he was a stranger, you didn’t want to take any chances. So far he had been helpful & friendly enough so you didn’t want to be quick to stuff him into a box labeled ‘creep’, but you’d certainly keep your eye on him.

            You heard his footfalls coming nearer so you stood up. When he entered the room again, he carried a large bowl in one hand & a glass of water in the other.

            “Thank you.” You offered him a small smile when taking the objects from him.

            Once you got Jules settled, you turned to face him, gesturing for the two of you to leave the room. You closed the door quietly behind you. In the living room, you eyed the kitchen on the opposite end of the space.

            “Did you want anything to drink? It’s the least I can do for helping.”

            Rafe sighed, contemplating your offer, “An energy drink if you got it. Feel like I’m gonna fall asleep behind the wheel if I keep going like this.”

            “I don’t have any of that, but I can make you a coffee?”

            “Yeah, sure, thanks.”

            You nodded, walking towards your kitchen. Rafe followed behind you, taking a seat at your small two person table in the corner. You felt him watching you as you pulled out the coffee grounds & began putting them into the coffee maker.

            “Thank you again.” You repeated, tossing him a look over your shoulder, “For helping.”

            “No problem.” He repeated, “Again.”

            You laughed quietly & softly at that. Once the coffee began brewing, you pulled out two mugs & left them by the pot. Then you turned back to face him.

            “How are you feeling?” He asked.

            You felt your brows crease, “What do you mean?”

            “Well, you couldn’t walk at the bar, but now you seem totally fine.”

            “Oh.” You straightened up that, also then realizing how much better you were beginning to feel, “Better, yeah. Must’ve just been a wave.”

            Rafe nodded at that but said nothing.

            “So.” you began, shrugging your shoulders. Small talk wasn’t your forte. It made you feel awkward.

            “So…” Rafe repeated.

            The two of you shared an uncomfortable laugh.

            “You looked really hot on the bar tonight.” His sudden & unsolicited comment surprised you. There was no hiding the shock on your face.

            “What?” You laughed, really believing you misheard him.

            “You heard me.” He smirked at you, his eyes trailing the length of you. You shifted under his gaze, shaking your head, “Thanks? I guess.”

            Fortunately, the coffee pot finished & you were able to distract yourself with pouring the two of you a mug of coffee. You brought Rafe’s his before returning to the fridge to pull out some French vanilla creamer.

            “Want some?” You shook the carton. Rafe waved his hand in dismissal.

            After flavoring your coffee, you joined him at the table.

            “So, what have you been up to since high school?” You finally asked, forcing yourself to partake in a dreaded topic of conversation.

            “Not a whole lot.” Rafe blew out air, “Working for my dad mostly.”

            “And what’s that?” You blew on your coffee before taking a sip.

            “Business. Real estate development. That sorta shit.”

            You nodded, “That’s good money though, right? You rolling in dough?”

            “Why? Want me to take you out on a date?”

            He was teasing but you still laughed uncomfortably, “Not exactly.”

            “No? Not the dating type?”

            Shrugging, you made a face that confirmed his suspicions, “Not really, no.”

            “Why’s that?”

            You sighed, leaning back in your chair, “No reason, really. Just haven’t met the right person, I guess.”

            “Having too much fun stealing & breaking hearts at the bar?” Rafe smirked.

            You rolled your eyes, “Something like that.”

            “You stole mine. Watching you up there…”

            The way he looked at you made your skin erupt with goosebumps. You bit your lip & Rafe’s eyes flicked to the movement. You shook your head, unable to hide your embarrassed smile, “You’ve always been a flirt, ya know?”

            Rafe’s eyes widened at that, “What does that mean?”

            You shook your finger at him, “We may not have talked in high school but you had a reputation. You were ‘the bad boy’. Breaking hearts and faces.”

            Rafe scoffed at that but chuckled nonetheless, “I won’t confirm nor deny.”

            A silly giggle left you but you immediately reeled it in the second you heard it. Were you…flirting with Rafe Cameron? Jesus. If someone had told you earlier that day that you’d end your night flirting with Rafe Cameron in your own apartment you’d say bullshit. It was funny though sometimes how the world brought people in & out of your life.

            “Oh, c’mon.” You shook your head, “All the girls wanted to date you & all the guys wanted to either be you or beat you.”

            Rafe laughed at that, nodding in agreement, “Maybe.”

            You lowered your eyes, memories of high school passing you by.

            “What about you?”

            You raised your eyes to meet his, “What about me, what?”

            “Did you want to date me?”

            There was no helping the sudden burst of laughter at his question. You bit your lip again, shaking your head, “Actually, no. If anything, I was scared of you.”

            Rafe’s eyes glinted playfully, leaning across the table, “That so?”

            “Mm.” You nodded, “I saw a few of your fights. You’re pretty hot-headed, ya know. All I wanted to do was not piss you off.”

            “You couldn’t even if you tried.” Rafe eyes lingered to your lips.

            A part of you was undeniably enjoying his apparent attraction to you. You didn’t care if it was the alcohol or whatever it was that was sexually charging the energy in the room. After all, you did want to take a man home tonight. Rafe isn’t who you had in mind, especially since he started out as Jules’, but Jules’ was lax. If you did end up sleeping with Rafe, she wouldn’t care. All she’d be interested in was how he was in bed. And now, you couldn’t help but wonder yourself.

            Inhaling sharply, you pushed your coffee to the side so you could place your elbows on the table, leaning forward so there was only a few inches between you.

            “But I’m sure I can make you happy.” You flirted suggestively.

            “I think you can, too.” Rafe stared at you through hooded eyes. Yeah. He wanted you, too.

            That being the only confirmation you needed, you rose from your seat, offering your hand to Rafe, “C’mon then. Let’s go to bed.”

            Rafe grinned up at you with that. Then he rose to his full height, but he ignored your hand. He towered over you, your head only reaching his shoulders. Before you could say or do anything, Rafe suddenly had his arms around your butt, lifting you until you were forced to wrap your legs around his middle.

            “Let’s.”

            A week passed before you saw Rafe again. And you honestly never expected to see him again. After the night you two spent together rolling around in your sheets, you passed out. When you woke the next morning, Rafe was gone. It wasn’t the first time, & likely wouldn’t be the last, that one of your hook-ups escaped into the night, but you’d be lying if you thought Rafe would be different since you two went to high school. But alas, Rafe only proved to be like most men. You weren’t miffed though. You moved on fast.

            As far Jules, her reaction to learning about you two hooking up wasn’t what you quite expected. She laughed it off at first but you could see that she felt something about it. You eventually got it out of her. She said that she actually liked Rafe. Unlike most of her conquests, she felt a natural draw to him & had thought that perhaps Rafe could be someone she’d date. It all surprised you.

            Jules, of course, didn’t blame you whatsoever since she had only met Rafe that night, & after you explained your history, or lack thereof, with him, she understood. But you could tell that she was disheartened to not get to know him more. But as the week passed, she got back into her usual good spirits.

            As for you, you heard from Jack a day after you met him. He started out giving you a hard time for not letting him know you made it back home safely that night, & you thought it best to lie & say that you passed out as soon as you got into bed rather than telling me the truth. The two of you texted for the whole day & before you knew it you had scheduled a date.

            The date itself was fun. You took Jack to some blacklight mini golf then the two of you had a couple beers at one of your favorite bars. The night ended with a hot make-out session in your car. After that, you two saw each other practically every day. Tonight would be no different. In fact, Jules was going out to the bars & you were staying in, wanting Jack to come spend the night with you. It wasn’t like you to wait to have sex with someone you were interested, so Jack was a rare case.

            But with Jules being out of the apartment for most of the night, you thought it an opportune time to have him over & you two could be as loud as you wanted.

            It was almost nine at night when Jules finally left. Jack was supposed to be there around that time, as well. But before she left, she poked her head into your room. You did a little spin for her as she tried to pick her jaw off the floor.

            “Damn, _____. Jack isn’t gonna know what hit him.”

            You smiled happily at that, admiring your lingerie in your full length mirror.

            “I hope so.” Jack was quickly becoming your Rafe. By that, you meant that you enjoyed his company beyond more than just the sexual tension. He made you laugh, carried a conversation, showed interest in your life but also wasn’t afraid to share details of his own. Plus, he was hot as fuck. The more you hung out with him the more he reminded you of a young James Franco. And Franco was always cute to you.

            “So, I wanted to talk to you about something really quick.” Jules revealed, stepping further into your room.

            You tossed her a confused but wary look, “…Okay. Everything alright?”

            “Yeah, at least, I hope so.” She laughed sheepishly, “I’m going to bars tonight, as you know, but…I’m not going alone.”

            You reeled back at that, but were smiling nonetheless, “Okay, babe, if it’s a date you know we trade info incase the guys are creeps.”

            “Yeah, I know.” She sighed, avoiding your eyes, “That’s kind of why I didn’t say anything to begin with. You already know him…”

            Done admiring yourself in the mirror, you sat on your bed, staring up at her in waiting.

            Jules moved forward to join you on your bed, “It’s with Rafe.”

            Oh.

            The revelation wasn’t what you expected but you nodded hesitantly, “Okay… that’s okay?”

            “I don’t know, is it? We’ve never really navigated these waters before.”

            You rolled your eyes at that, “Oh, my god, Jules, it’s okay! I have no claims to him. If you want to see him then see him.”

            She frowned at that, not entirely buying what you were selling, “Are you sure? I know we have a pretty lax friendship, but it’s not weird. I’ll admit, I did feel weird after you told me you guys hooked up last weekend.”

            A pang of guilt hit your chest, but you dismissed it with a forced smile. You had no interest in Rafe. He was a decent fuck, but that’s all he was. If Jules was serious about him, the last you wanted to do was have her thinking you were standing in her way.

            “God, I’m sorry. I’m such a slut sometimes.”

            Jules giggled at that but shook her head, “That’s not what I’m saying. I just want to make sure that you & I will be okay. And, obviously, if it gets weird or messy having Rafe around then I won’t mind kicking him to the curb.”

            You laughed at that, “It won’t come to that. Besides, I have my own man coming over tonight. Rafe…feels like it was ages ago at this point.”

            “Okay.” Jules grinned, her dimples appearing. You could tell she was really excited about this date. You only hoped that Rafe didn’t disappear in the middle of the night on her like he did you.

            “Okay!” You exclaimed, standing up. Jules stood with you. You hugged her, “Thank you for telling me. I’ll make sure Jack & I are all finished by the time you get home.”

            “No worries.” Jules pulled away, grinning at you, “If we do end up wanting to hook-up I’m going to try to get it done at his place, that way you two can be alone all night.”

            “Well, thanks, I appreciate it.” You smiled, letting her go, “But if you do go there, you know to text me where the address is.”

            “Yes, mom.” Jules rolled her eyes.

            With that, you exited your room & walked with her to the door. Jack would be there any minute & you still wanted light some incense & candles.

            You were unlatching the door & swinging it open, preparing to wave Jules off but a yelp escaped you at the tall, looming presence just on the other side.

            “Rafe!” Jules shrieked. The both of you were not expecting him on the other side, let alone anyone.

            Rafe’s eyes danced amusingly between the two of you as you both recovered from the jump scare but when his eyes stopped on you, staring at your chest, you glanced down. It was then that you realized you were still only wearing your lingerie.

            “Oh, fuck.” You muttered, quickly standing just behind the door out of sight as you tied the thigh length silk robe around your body. Jules realized what was happening by the time you finished & glanced up.

            “Sorry ‘bout that.” You laughed sheepishly as Jules stepped out.

            Rafe said nothing but was staring at you like he was trying not to respond.

            “Oh, jesus, let’s just get this over with.” Jules finally spit out, “You guys fucked. It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before. Right?” She looked at you to which you nodded quickly.

            “Right?” She focused on Rafe. He only mustered an awkward smirk.

            “Great. Now that that’s over with, _____...” Jules eyed you, “Have fun with Jack. I’ll see you either tonight or tomorrow.”

            At the mention of Jack’s name, you felt Rafe’s eyes flash to yours in curiosity. You blatantly ignored his wonderous gaze & waved at Jules, “Bye, have fuuun!”

            Then you hurriedly slammed the door. As much as you loved Jules for her direct nature, you sorely wished she hadn’t mentioned the two of you hooking up while you were standing there in practically nothing. But, fortunately the moment was over & you could focus on the task at hand: Jack.

            It was nearly three in the morning when you tip-toed into the kitchen to heat yourself up some leftovers. Jack had passed out. You had tired him out. You had always considered your endurance your best quality in the bedroom. It wasn’t often when a man could keep up with you. Jack was no exception, but he was fun, nonetheless. The sex was rushed at first. The second he saw you he couldn’t keep his hands off you. The after having sex that lasted for roughly fifteen minutes, you two relaxed & laughed about it.

            Then you ordered the two of you some food & while waiting for the food to come the two of you hung out on the couch watching an episode of The Boys. After eating & another episode, Jack gathered you in his arms & carried you into your room for second round. The second round was a lot more sensual. Now that the two of you had had sex in a hurry, you two were able to slow down & really learn each other’s bodies. You were winded by the time that session ended. You fell asleep as he scratched your back & when you woke up an hour later, he was still awake watching videos on his phone. You knocked his phone out of the way & straddled his lap. The third time was even more mind-blowing than the first two—being the perfect mixture of animalistic & intimate.

            After that, it was Jack’s turn to pass out. He had commented on your skills in bed & you kicked your feet about it. It wasn’t that you felt validated by hearing a man’s thoughts about what you could do but you also wouldn’t deny how good it still felt to hear.

            You tried sleeping yourself, getting only ten or so minutes when your stomach growled you awake. There would be no good night’s rest until you ate. So, that’s when you decided to go heat up some leftovers from yours & Jack’s order.

            Your apartment was quiet save for the metallic hum of the microwave. You stared at Jules’ closed bedroom door, & it was only then that you realized you hadn’t checked your phone whatsoever since Jack arrived. There was still a minute left on the microwave. You decided you’d go snatch your phone from your room really quickly then give Jules a call while you ate. But just as you entered the hallway, you heard the familiar sound of her keys in the door.

            As quietly as you possibly could, you backed up back into the living room then raced across the room to the kitchen, trying to look as natural as possible. But as you listened for Jules’ footsteps, you picked up on another.

            She wasn’t alone.

            You glanced down. You were in your robe but only your robe. Jack made quick work of discarding your matching bra & underwear. There was a throw blanket on the back of the couch. You made to move towards it, hoping to get it wrapped around you since the robe did little to really cover you, but just as you did, two figures appeared on the other end of the room.

            “Jules?” You frowned. She was slumped against Rafe.

            Your eyes flashed to his, your state of dress forgotten, “What the hell happened?”

            “Yeah, I don’t think she’s much of a heavyweight anymore. She was falling asleep at the bar.”

            Shaking your head, you approached the two of them. Rafe still held her up as you patted her cheeks, “Jules, babe, wake up.”

            But she only moaned & swatted your hand away, “Sleepy.”

            “Okay, okay.” You couldn’t help the glare you threw at Rafe. Whether or not it was his fault, she had only gotten this drunk in the last week while in his presence. You hoped it was just a coincidence but you wouldn’t settle on it quite yet.

            “Can you get some water, I got it from here.” You told Rafe before slipping her into your arms. Jules managed to use her feet to assist you in assisting her as you brought her back to her bed. Jules sighed happily at the sight of her bed before throwing herself down on it.

            You knelt beside the bed, tucking her hair behind her ear, “Did you drink a lot again?”

            “Mmm. Probably.”

            You sucked on your lip, “Jules, you can’t be drinking like that. You gotta be safe.”

            “Safe…very safe.” She mumbled, turning her head away from you as she curled into herself.

            The air in the room shifted as Rafe entered behind you. You stood up, taking the glass of water from him none-too-gently & putting it on her nightstand.

            “You can leave.” You told him without looking at him, “Thanks for getting her home.”

            Rafe scoffed behind you but said nothing. You listened as you heard his steps leave the room. Releasing a breath of air, you stared at your best friend as she slept soundlessly.

            “Jules…” You whispered to no one. Taking her shoes off, you threw one of her loose blankets over her & switched her light off. You’d be talking with her in the morning. You had to make sure that her getting so drunk was her doing & not Rafe’s.

            A muffled gasp escaped you as you closed her door, not expecting to see Rafe leaning against the wall just on the other side.

            You had your hand over your mouth to keep from waking Jules or Jack, but you glared hotly at Rafe over your hand.

            Closing Jules door, you stepped closer to him, hissing, “I told you to leave.”

            Rafe frowned, “Okay, sorry. I thought you just meant the room.”

            “You knew exactly what I meant.”

            You turned away from him, quietly stomping towards the kitchen. Rafe followed behind you.

            “What’s your problem? I thought you’d thank me.”

            “And I did.” You bit back. You were struggling to contain your anger. You had no proof that Rafe actually did anything, after all, he was helpful just last weekend & brought Jules back home tonight, but it still didn’t sit well with you. And your mom always taught you to trust your gut.

            “So why the hostile attitude? Did I do something wrong?”

            Inhaling sharply, you yanked open the microwave door. The food was steaming. But you had lost your appetite.

            “No.” You replied shortly, uncaring if you sounded convincing or not.

            You touched the plate but as you did, you hissed in pain. You were too caught up in your frustrations to remember to grab the plate of food with a hand towel.

            “You okay?” Rafe moved closer, peering down at you as you stuck your thumb in your mouth, sucking on it.

            You grunted in response. But Rafe just stared at you in disbelief.

            “If you run it under cold water it’ll help better.” He told you, his voice flat.

            “I know that.”

            Instead of approaching you, he backed up to the sink, flicking the faucet handle. Then he gestured to the sink, “Well.”

            Biting your lip in mild irritation, you neared the sink & stuck your thumb under the water. It wouldn’t burn, not visibly anyway, but it still hurt like a bitch. The cool water helped though.

            As the water cooled the sensation of your pulsing thumb, so did your anger. Shaking your head, you finally looked at Rafe over your shoulder, “I’m sorry. Thank you for helping her home.”

            “You’re welcome.” He returned, but the nicety has left his voice. He was as irritated as you had been.

            “It’s just, she doesn’t get drunk like this.” You told him, “I mean, she does! But it takes a lot. Like a lot, a lot. So, seeing her get this drunk twice in one week, just has me concerned.”

            “Well, I was there, & I’m telling you, she didn’t drink a lot. I don’t know, obviously, what her ‘a lot’ is, but it wasn’t a lot to me. A beer, three cocktails, & two shots.”

            You thought on it. That was still excessive, at least in your opinion. Jules could normally handle a bit more than that but perhaps Rafe was right. Maybe her tolerance was just changing for some reason all of a sudden.

            “Guess it makes sense.” You mumbled. Your thumb felt better at that point so you turned the faucet off.

            “So, what’s a lot to you?” You asked him, wanting to shift the negative energy between the two of you.

            Rafe glanced at you in momentary confusion before shrugging, “More than that.”

            “Guess that makes sense, too.” You chuckled softly, “You were a big partier in high school.”

            Finally, Rafe’s stone expression cracked as a smirk tugged on the corner of his lips, “Yeah, true.”

            The room was silent for a beat until your stomach growled. Your appetite had returned. Turning your back on Rafe, you went to the microwave & tapped the plate, testing the heat. It was grabbable now. You removed your food from the appliance then took your plate to the table. Rafe watched you silently before slowly approaching you.

            “So, you & Jack, huh?”

            “Hmm?” You flicked your eyes to his, before realizing what he had asked, “Oh, uh, yeah.”

            Rafe nodded, slowly dragging out the chair opposite you before sitting down.

            “And you & Jules.” You added, not wanting you or Jack to be the focus at that point in time.

            “Mhmm.” Rafe pursed his lips, cocking his head as he peered at you, “And you & me.”

            You scrunched your nose in discomfort, but offered an awkward smile nonetheless, “Yup.”

            “Does Jack know?” His question surprised you.

            You glanced away to cut into your enchilada, blowing on it, then placing it in your mouth. You chewed, staring back at Rafe. Then you shrugged.

            “I take that as a ‘no’.”

            “Well, it’s not like we’re together, him & I. He doesn’t need to know about my hook-ups. I don’t ask about his.”

            “But you want to date him.” It wasn’t a question but you still treated it as such.

            “Um, no? I don’t know. Why do you ask?” You took another bite, a lump forming in your throat at Rafe’s invasive questions.

            “Ah, well, Jules was saying that she thought you really liked this Jack guy, more than normal. Said you guys have been seeing each other pretty much everyday since last weekend.” For some odd reason, you felt like you were being interrogated, like a parent trying to get to know their teen daughter’s boyfriend before ultimately deciding that they weren’t good enough for her.

            You shrugged, “Yeah, I guess. But, same could be said about you & Jules.”

            Rafe raised his brows at that, “Yeah?”

            You nodded, “She almost lied to me tonight. Didn’t tell me who she was seeing. She’s never done that before. Plus, she admitted as much that she liked you more than just for hooking up.”

            “Hmm.” He looked away, deep in thought.

            “How does that make you feel?” It was your turn to interrogate him.

            “Not a lot.” Rafe returned quickly. His cold response had your earlier anger become lightly reignited.

            “And that means…?”

            Rafe leaned forward, his elbows on his knees as he gazed at you, “She’s nice, hot, fun. But…she’s not you.”

            The sound of your fork clattering against the plate as it slipped from your fingers made you jump slightly. Your body felt tense at Rafe’s confession. But you had to play it off. Quickly snatching the fork back up, you brushed off his comment with a sheepish chuckle, “Funny.”

            But Rafe didn’t share in your amusement. His unwavering stare was only evidence of his seriousness.

            “What are you trying to say, Rafe?”

            He sighed, his eyes dropping to the opening of your robe. You glanced down & quickly snatched the fabric closer to your chest. He smirked at that.

            “I’m saying that I know you’re wearing nothing under that & I want to see what you’re trying to hide from me.”

            You sputtered in shock, staring at him wide-eyed, “Are you fucking serious?”

            Rafe raised his eyes to yours, “Deadly.”

            “Alright, okay.” You stood up, your half-eaten food forgotten on the table, “I don’t know what the hell you think—’

            But Rafe stood too, quickly invading your space as you stood there attempting to talk him down. He pressed his chest against you & you didn’t have time to create space before he gripped one of your hips. A surprised hiss escaped your lips at his abrupt manhandling.

            “I think that dumbass in there can’t please you like I can.” Rafe spoke lowly, his voice even but firm.

            You swallowed, putting your hands on his chest in an attempt to push yourself away from him, but Rafe was quick to snatch both your wrists in his other hand.

            “What are you doing?” Panic flooded you. If Rafe was fucking with you, you weren’t finding it very funny.

            “I told you.” Rafe then quickly yanked on the ties of your robe & your robe fell open.

            You gasped as cool air suddenly brushed over your exposed front. You instinctively made to cover yourself help but Rafe still held your wrists in his hand. You were breathing heavily, watching in a daze as Rafe’s eyes darkened, staring at your body.

            Then, just as quickly as it happened, Rafe looked back up at you & smirked. Then he let you go.

            “Have a good night.”

            Like whiplash, Rafe was there one second then gone the next. You stood there in the center of your kitchen staring into the direction of the hallway where Rafe disappeared to. The front door to your apartment closed in the distance & you finally released a breath of air you had been holding.

            Then everything that just occurred finally hit you.

            “What. The. Fuck.”

            The next couple months were weird, to say the least. After Rafe revealed yourself to him he was around way too much. He & Jules began spending a lot of time together & before you knew it, they were dating. DATING.

            You sat on what he had done for a couple days before you finally told her about it. Or least, a little bit about it.

            First, you started by asking her if she was really serious about Rafe, like had real feelings for him. When she admitted that she did, you felt torn on telling her the whole truth or just a version of the truth. You eventually settled on just telling her variation of it.

            What you ended up telling her was that he came onto you again but you had rejected him & then he left. That was basically what happened, but you didn’t mention him undoing your robe, & you weren’t sure why. Rafe was no friend to you so you had no need to protect him, but Jules was your friend, & you had never seen her hung up on someone the way she was about Rafe.

            You had seen Rafe multiple times in the window between his harassment of you in the kitchen to telling Jules about it, & in that time he never said or tried anything again. He hardly even looked at you. You reminded yourself that he was an asshole in high school & that he likely viewed what he did as just a humiliating prank. But it wasn’t. Had you not already hooked-up with him you likely would’ve told Jules the whole truth, but since Rafe had already seen you naked & was just pulling one of those idiotic Alpha moves on you in the kitchen, you figured as long as it never happened again you could deal with seeing him & Jules together all the time.

            But it still ate away at you. It bothered you that he had the audacity to not only do that but then move forward & decide to date your best friend. But Jules was happy, more so, she was drinking less. It was the least you could ask for in her questionable relationship with Rafe Cameron.

            On the bright side, Jules wasn’t the only one to enter into an official relationship. After a few weeks of hanging out with Jack & having some of the best sex of your life, you & Jack progressed into a relationship. It felt like ages since you last had a boyfriend, but it felt nice. He was quickly becoming one of your favorite people. Even better, he & Jules got along great. She’d often join you guys on the couch when you watched a movie or show or even help out in the kitchen as the two of you made dinner. They were all good times, but they were often soured by the presence of Rafe.

            Now that you & Jules were in relationships, there was an ungodly amount of times when all four of you would hangout. It was like double dating all the time. If Jules & Rafe wanted to go out to the bars, they’d always convinces Jack to convince you. And then on nights when you worked, Jack would sometimes come in to see you, & right behind him would be Jules & Rafe. Your apartment with Jules was quickly becoming a home to your respective boyfriends.

            Your relationship with Rafe was interesting, too. Though he never made comments or did anything like he did that night in the kitchen, he still always found a reason to talk to you. It was never about anything especially important or engaging, but always just enough to have you two at least carry a conversation for some time.

            Jack still never knew about you & Rafe hooking up the night you all met & you wanted to keep it that way. In fact, you made Jules promise that she would tell Rafe to keep his mouth shut because if ever said anything, even eluded to it, you would make sure he’d regret it. And so far, Rafe never peeped a word about it. The only downside to Jack never knowing about your tryst with Rafe was that they too became good friends.

            Oftentimes, you’d see them laughing loudly with one another, like slapping each other laughing, & always having each other’s back on nights out if for some reason they came across a belligerent asshole. A small part of you was relieved that everything was seemingly working out, but a majority of you knew everything was too good to be true. It’d only be so long before the other shoe dropped. And what kind of shoe it would be had you constantly on the edge…

            But that was the least of your worries as you rushed to get ready. That morning, your mom called you to remind of the charity gala that was being hosted in her name & how you promised to be there. The event had completely slipped your mind. So, all day you were frazzled with that now being your mission. You were forced to call Rosie & explain everything to him, apologizing that it slipped your mind & you would be able to come into work. Fortunately, Rosie said he’d take care of it & that he would see the following night.

            After that, you drove to the shopping district hoping you’d find a dress that would be appropriate enough for the gala. These gala’s your mom attended were high class. No ball gowns or anything extravagant like that (though some people did wear stuff like that), but it was definitely an excuse for those in attendance to show off some of the nicer items in their closet. You had none.

            You got lucky when you found a dress that you could keep & wear again. It was equally elegant as it was just the right amount of sex appeal. Unfortunately, due to the short notice, Jack would not be able to come with you. You learned early on in your relationship that Jack moved to town to open his own café. It had a rough start but once the warmer months came it became a huge hit so he was spending a lot of his time there to help out. And tonight they were having an open mic night for comedians, poets, musicians. It was their first one so he couldn’t miss it.

            You were going to ask Jules next if she wanted to be your date but when you went to her room earlier that day, you could hear her throwing up in the bathroom. She had come down with the flu. So, she was a no go. It bummed you out that you wouldn’t have a date but it was your own fault for completely forgetting about it.

            It was thirty minutes before the gala started & you had just finished getting ready. You still had to drive 20 minutes to the venue so you would be cutting it close but at least you’d be on time. Before you left, you sped-walk to Jules’ room to check on her. She was sound asleep in her bed, a humidifier next to her bed billowing warm, wet air. You quicky stepped into the room & kissed your fingers before placing them on her forehead. You couldn’t afford getting sick after bailing on Rosie tonight.

            Then, you were out the door.

            You recognized the address as being somewhere in the industrial district on the north side of town. That thought made you groan, you hoped they had valet parking.

Traffic was a bitch but you made it with two minutes to spare. Thank you, Valet.

            Once you were inside, you sought out your mom. You found her in the middle of greeting guests as they entered the building.

            “Oh, honey!” She exclaimed, “I’m so happy you could make it.”

            “Of course, Mom. Is there an open bar?” You asked once she pulled away.

            Your mom rolled her eyes knowingly, “So much of your father in you. Yes, yes. The venue is up those stairs there, the bar portion is in a separate room across from it.”           

            “Great, thank you.” You kissed her on the cheek, antsy to at least get a glass of wine in your system.

            She waved you off to continue welcoming guests while you went to go retrieve a drink. After you succeeded in getting your wine, you entered the gala. You nodded impressively. There were a few faces you recognized as close friends of your mom’s & forced yourself to make small talk as you mingled your way over to a table by the windows. Once you made it through, you took a moment to yourself to relax. Your whole day had felt rushed & chaotic so you were happy to finally be off your feet with some sort of alcohol before you to keep you going.

            The charity event started soon thereafter, & before you knew it, you were enjoying your drink, watching as a couple hundred middle aged rich folk raised their hands for the auction portion. Once the auction was through, the host announced that dinner was served & to help yourselves & to enjoy the night while it was still young. You checked the time on your phone, noting it was only 8 in the evening. Your mom begged you to stay at least until 9 that way she can finish making her rounds then she could focus her time on you. You begrudgingly promised you would.

            When she disappeared, you decided to get your glass refilled. You were snaking your way between bodies, aiming for the doors that would lead you to the bar when you abruptly ran into another person.

            “Sorry!” You exclaimed, feeling embarrassed for not watching where you were going. But when the person you ran into turned around, the apologetic expression on your face fell.

            “Well, well. Fancy seeing you here, huh?” Rafe grinned, clearly not expecting to see you either.

            “Fancy.” You deadpanned, turning away to continue on your way. What the hell was he doing there?

            Once you made it to the edge of the room though, you felt a slight tug on your elbow, deterring you from your destination. A curse died on your tongue as you glared at Rafe dragging you through a set of glass doors & onto a patio. You didn’t even know there was a patio. Had you, you would’ve hidden out there all night to avoid Rafe,

            “What are you doing here?” He asked, admiring your outfit.

            “You first.” You battled.

            Rafe chuckled but answered, “Networking.”

            “For?”

            Rafe rolled his eyes, sighing, “My dad’s business?”

            You pursed your lips. You supposed it made sense. But Jules hadn’t mentioned it.

            “Why isn’t Jules here then?” You knew well enough that she was sick & resting at home, but since she had never mentioned it, you wondered if Rafe had even bothered to mention it to her.

            “Because I didn’t ask her.” Rafe responded like it was the most obvious answer in the whole world. But you wouldn’t accept.

            “God, you are such an asshole. She’s crazy about you, ya know. And you treat her like crap.”

            Rafe bit his lip in though, narrowing his eyes at you, “You sure about that? Pretty sure I actually spoil her. More than she’s worth.”

            “Oh, you—” All the possible offensive terms you could think of threatened to spill out but this wasn’t the time or the place, “That’s it. When I get back home, I’m telling her everything.”

            You spun on your heel then, prepared to go find your mom & apologize but you had to leave early. You couldn’t stand to be here for a second longer knowing Rafe asshole Cameron was present.

            But when you left the patio & entered the hall, where there was conveniently no one was around, Rafe snagged you by the waist before shoving you into a bathroom.

            “Rafe, goddamnit!” But Rafe shook you to your core when he pressed your back against the wall & covered your mouth. His hand going to the handle on the door & locking it.

            “I’m gonna take my hand off now, think you can shut the fuck up for two seconds?”

            You glared at him but nodded once. Rafe removed his hand but only stared at you.

            You slapped your hands together, waiting for him to get it over with.

            “I don’t know what the fuck you want, _____. You’re so annoyingly confusing. More than most women.”

            You frowned at that. What was he talking about?

            “You come onto me the night we meet then you suddenly want nothing to do with me. I never asked you out on a date because you said you weren’t interested in dating. I was fine with that, though. I could live with just hooking up. But then come to find out you’re dating Jack, fucking him, too. So, now I look like an idiot because you told me you don’t date. And that’s a lie. So, when I found out & tried coming onto you again that night in your apartment, you rejected me. All for that dumbass in your bed. I mean, what is a guy supposed to think? I’ve been very patient, waiting for you & Jack to get through whatever it is you guys think you’re doing but nope, nope, Jack’s here to stay, Jack’s such a good guy, Jack’s the one.”

            All of his words were becoming jumbled together in your brain. You could do nothing but stare at him wide-eyed & in shock.

            Rafe was huffing, his lips in an upside down smile as he stared through you, “What do you have to say, huh? Because now, all this time, pretending to be into Jules, I’ve just been trying to get close to you. To show you that I’m who you want. That you regret rejecting me. And you can’t say I haven’t been good because I have been. I don’t touch you, flirt with you, make it obvious that I want to fuck your brains out, that I want to beat Jack to a pulp every single time I see him put his hands on you. It should be me, _____. You know that.”

            A surprised but unamused sigh left you. Everything you thought about Rafe was true, but just much worse. He was only dating Jules because of you. Only hanging around because of you. You needed to snuff this man out.

            “Rafe…” You licked your lips, struggling to find the words, “I don’t know where, at any point, you got into your head that we were something more than just a spontaneous, convenient hook-up but that’s all it was. Okay? That’s it. There was sexual tension & I acted on it. Simple as that. I mean, you were gone the next morning! We had nothing more than just casual, one-time sex.”

            Rafe’s eyes narrowed as you spoke.

            “And as far as Jack goes, that’s none of your damn business. I meant what I said when I told you I don’t date but things change, & I don’t care how fast they change, I don’t owe you anything. I’m not some fucking prize that you are competing against Jack for, & even if I was, let me tell you, he is by far a better man you will ever be. A real man doesn’t use a woman to get closer to her roommate, to try & make her roommate, I don’t know, fall for him? That’s some psycho sociopathic shit, right there. Okay?! So, what you’re gonna do now, is you’re gonna call Jules & you’re gonna break up with her. I don’t care how you do it, but you’re gonna get it done. I would love nothing more than to tell her myself about how much of a piece of shit you are, but she’s my friend. My best friend. And I don’t want to hurt her. So, the least you can do is soften the blow.”

            It looked as if he wasn’t listening anymore, his eyes glazing over, but you knew he was. He was hearing every single world.

            “Man up.” You stepped forward, “And give her what she deserves.”

            His eyes finally shifted back to yours, “Careful what you wish for.”

            The look in his eyes sparked a bout of fear within you.

            But then Rafe was unlocking the bathroom door & next thing you knew he was gone. Your heart was racing, the interaction an explosion of emotions. But with him gone, you were finally able to relax against the wall. You placed your hand on your chest, willing your heart to slow down. Jesus. This day just wouldn’t give you a break, would it?

            Unfortunately, your night never improved. When you got home later that night, you could hear Jules crying in her room. As relieved as you were that Rafe called her, you were still disheartened to hear her sobs from the front door. Stopping by your room first, you kicked off your heels & tossed your keys on the bed. Then you hesitantly walked towards her room. Her door was cracked open.

            You were about to enter her room but another’s voice stopped you.

            “I’m sorry, Jules.” Rafe.

            What the fuck was he doing here?!

            Not waiting to get answers from Jules, you slapped her door open, standing angrily in her doorway. Jules & Rafe were on her bed & Rafe was holding her as she cried into his chest.

            “What the hell’s going on here?”

            Jules looked up then but her solemn face quickly turned to one of anger as she set her eyes on you. She stood up, looking you directly in the eye, “I should be asking you that! I trusted you!”

            You stared at her in confusion before glancing at Rafe who sat smugly on the edge of her bed.

            “Jules, look, I don’t know what that fuck told you but he’s ly—”

            “Lying?!” Jules questioned, her voice growing louder, “Yeah, he said you’d say that. But he told me everything!”

            You crossed your arms over your chest, glaring at the unapologetic look on Rafe’s face, “And what was that?”

            “That you’ve been coming onto him for months!” Jules screeched, “I knew bringing him around was going to be weird but if you still had feelings for him then you should have told me! Now you’re telling him to break up with me so you can have him. I can’t believe you would do that!”

            “What?!” You raised your voice, “No, no, that is not what’s happening. He’s the asshole, the creep!”

            “Oh, shut up, _____!” Jules glared at you through her angry tears, “He has proof of you saying so!”

            You stumbled at that, “Proof? What? What proof, Jules?”

            She spun around, snatching a phone that wasn’t hers off the bed before raising it up between the two of you. She clacked on it & then turned the volume up. It was your voice that came out.

            So, what you’re gonna do now, is you’re gonna call Jules & you’re gonna break up with her. I don’t care how you do it, but you’re gonna get it done.

            “Motherfucker…” You whispered in disbelief. But then the recording stopped. Jules played it again.

            You shot your eyes between the two of them before settling on Jules, “That’s all he recorded? You don’t think that’s weird, Jules? There’s nothing before, nothing after, it’s all out of context. Yes, I told him to break up with you but so I could have him! He’s a fucking psycho!”

            Jules shook her head, chuckling darkly as she tossed the phone back on her bed, “I want you out of this apartment. Tonight. And then I never want to see you again.”

            “Jules! No, what? Wait!” But she was shoving you out of her room & before you could get another word out, she slammed her door in your face.

            “Rafe, you fucking asshole! Tell her the truth!” You beat against the door but all you could make out on the other side was Jules bitching about you before her room started blaring music.

            You couldn’t believe this was happening. Rafe had gotten to her. Turned your closest friend against you. Well. Fuck him. He wasn’t going to win. Not that easily. Jules wanted to never see you again, that’s too damn bad. Because you weren’t going anywhere, not as long as Rafe was in her ear feeding her lies.

            You walked into work angrily the following night. Your coworkers greeted you but you could only manage a grunt. Jules was far from happy to see you when you came out of your room that morning but you needed to show her that you weren’t going anywhere.

            “My name’s on the lease. I pay rent. I’m staying.” You told her to which she sneered at you before grabbing her coffee & disappearing in her room.

            Her door was closed but you told her through the door that you would never betray her like that. That the person who was lying to her was Rafe. She never responded, & you never saw her again before you left for work. But you wouldn’t give up.

            You threw on your outfit for your shift then left in poor spirits. Working helped you distract yourself from the bullshit of your disastrous home life & potential friend break-up. It was busy & your regulars listened to you as you told a few of them about few details of your dilemma. They all held hope for you & Jules to figure things out. That left you feeling slightly better. But around midnight, an unexpected guest appeared at the far end of the bar. You smiled for the first time in 24 hours but your smile quickly fell at the furious expression on Jack’s face.

            “Hey.” You said warily, flipping over a 16oz to pour his usual beer.

            “I’m not staying.” Jack told you, his voice hard.

            That wasn’t a good sign.

            “I just came to tell you that Jules told me everything. The recording, everything.”

            “Jack.” You sighed exhaustedly. After last night’s intense fallout, you didn’t think to call Jack & tell him what happened. But you never thought Jules would reach out to him herself.

            “Save it.” He held up his hand, “I just wanted to tell you in person.”

            Before you could try to defend yourself or even explain a little bit, Jack was out the door. You watched tiredly through the windows as he sped off.

            Jack didn’t understand either. He would, but not yet. First, you had to get Jules to know the truth, get Rafe out of the picture, then after all that, you & Jules would tell Jack the truth together. You just had to be strong.

            “You alright, kid?” Rosie’s voice sounded behind you.

            You pressed your lips together, feeling them shake. You felt like crying but you forced yourself not to. Rafe couldn’t get away with this.

            Turning around, your head hung low, you simply nodded to Rosie.

            “Why don’t you take a ten. I can man the bar, start closing duties.”

            You didn’t have the energy to debate it. You exited the bar & went to sit at the far end. Pulling out your phone, you hoped to see any messages from Jules but there was nothing. You tried calling her but your call went straight to voicemail. She likely blocked you. Good thing you lived down the hallway from her.

            Holding your head in your hands, you thought about how you got here. How the fuck did you get here? Everything was fine & then suddenly it wasn’t. You realized you should’ve told Jules about Rafe from the beginning. Told her about how he came onto you in the kitchen that night. If you had, Rafe wouldn’t be in the picture, you & Jules would still be friends, & Jack would be drinking a beer less than 10 feet from you.

            “Fucking Rafe…” You muttered out loud.

            Could this night get any worse?

            Unfortunately yes, yes it could.

            You kicked at the tire of your car, frustrated that it suddenly wouldn’t start. Rosie had already left. He closed up The Garage with you & walked with you to your vehicles. But while he started his up & pulled out of the parking lot, you sat behind your wheel staring mindlessly out the windshield. You so desperately just wanted to talk to Jules, to just tell her everything. It had only been 24 hours & all you wanted was your best friend back.

            So, when you finally broke out of your thoughts & went to start your car, it only added to your shitty night that the engine sputtered then died.

            “Fuuuuuuck!” You screamed, beating your hands against the dashboard. Your hands were throbbing afterwards but you could barely feel it. And if you thought it still couldn’t get any worse, pulling out your phone & finding it dead only proved you wrong.

            “’Course.” Tossing your phone back into your bag, you glared at the bar across from you. There was chargers inside, but Rosie had the keys to get in & you had no phone to call him.

            Getting out, you locked up your car before rounding to the front. There was no point in checking under the hood, you would have no idea where to look first. You had always said that one day you’d learn car stuff for shit exactly like this, but you had yet to do it. It would be next on your agenda. After getting Jules back.

            You glared into the darkness of the road. The Garage was on a long stretch of a two-lane highway. During the day it was used regularly, but as soon as night came, the only reason people were on it was to come to your place of work. There would be no one. It was then that you decided you were going to be forced to walk back home. It was only a mile or so walk, most of it being spent on the highway, but you weren’t stoked about walking down a dark, desolate highway in the middle of the night.

            But what choice did you have?

            Facing your car once more, you kicked at her tire, “See you in the morning, princess.”

            You were only about ten minutes into your walk, your jacket wrapped securely around you as you stomped along the pavement, when you heard an engine in the distance. Now, you weren’t one of those girls who thought to yourself ‘oh, kidnapping wouldn’t happen to me, that’s only in the news’. So, you had no plans to put your thumb out & hitching a ride. Even if it was a nice elderly woman. You had seen too many true crime documentaries. It was better to be distrusting then it was to trust the wrong person.

            Unlike Jules, you thought bitterly. But it wasn’t her fault. It was all Rafe’s.

            When the engine grew closer, you moved off the highway. There were no streetlights on this stretch of the highway, so the driver wouldn’t spot you until they passed you. It also helped you were wearing darker clothes. Otherwise whoever it was might get some sort of idea. And if they did spot you whether before or after they passed you, you were mentally preparing yourself to launch yourself into the woods & make a run for it.

            You glanced over your shoulder as you walked, spotting two headlights in the distance. You hoped they would hurry & pass you by so you could walk freely again without worrying about getting snatched off the road. You already had enough stress on your plate.

            The engine grew closer but as it did you could hear begin to slow down.

            Great.

            Still walking, not wanting to let whoever it was get closer, you spun around expecting to see a middle-aged man giving you a toothy smile. But the lights were so bright you couldn’t make out anything. All you could see was the silhouette of someone sitting in the drivers seat. They didn’t move closer, they didn’t signal for you, they didn’t do anything. Just idled there in the middle of the highway.

            “Alright…” You could feel panic begin to grip you. “That’s not a red flag.”

            But it didn’t stop you. You just kept walking. And as you did, you heard the truck begin to roll closer. As it did, you moved further off the highway until you were forced to walk on the dirt along the tree line.

            You breathing fast at that point. As subtly as you could, you reached into your bag, looking for your taser. You had never had to use it before but you always kept it charged in the off chance you’d need to. And now seemed like it would potentially be that time.

            “_____.”

            The sound of your name horrified you, but more than that, it was the voice that carried it.

            You spun around on your heel, staring wide-eyed as Rafe hung an arm outside his window, his eyes dead set on you.

            “What the fuck do you want?”

            “Need a ride?” He asked, ignoring your question, but there was no sense of wanting to help you in his tone.

            “Fuck no.” You spit, glaring hotly at him, “I am walking home. Carry on.”

            “I’m heading there anyway.” Rafe smirked, “Booty call. You know how it goes.”

            You made a face of disgust. He still had the audacity to talk poorly about Jules even after convincing her that you were the bad guy. But were you surprised? No, no you weren’t.

            “Just fuck off, Rafe.” You dismissed him with a flick of your hand before marching ahead. Much to your chagrin, Rafe only followed alongside you in his truck. You made sure to keep a good distance between where you walked & where his door was. If he decided to jump you again like he had at the charity gala the previous night, you wanted a head start into the woods.

            “We can talk.” He stated, “Work something out. I can get Jules to forgive you.”

            You shook your head in disbelief, running your tongue along your teeth in annoyance. He was just egging you on, wanting to get a rise out of you. Like always.

            “C’mon, you know you’re tempted.” His voice grew lower.

            “The only thing I’m tempted to do is rip your fucking throat out & shove it up your ass so you can taste your own shit.”

            “Well,” Rafe chuckled darkly, “I’d need my throat to taste it, wouldn’t I?”

            Stamping your foot against the pavement, you finally stopped to face him again, “God, can you just leave me the fuck alone?! You got Jules, you won, she fucking hates my guts. I’m the bad guy in this story, I get it. Your narrative is working out great for you, Rafe. So if you’re done boasting, please! Leave. Me. Alone.”

            He peered at you through heavily hooded eyes, an unimpressed smirk appearing on his face, “I didn’t win, _____. Jules isn’t who I want. You know that.”

            His words chilled you to your core. It was then that you were reminded of where you were, or weren’t, which was pretty much in the middle of nowhere. Just you & Rafe.

            “I just want to walk home, okay?” You felt your voice shake with fear. Rafe smiled then. He heard it, too.

            “Ad I’m offering you a ride.”

            You felt your eyes begin to water as you stared past him into the cab. If you got in the cab, there was no saying what he would do to you. Your chances were better outside of the truck.

            “Rafe—”

            “I’m not gonna ask again. Get in the truck, or I’ll fucking make you get in the truck.”

            You shook your head, taking a step back. His eyes flashed to the movement before flickering back up to yours. His gaze hardened, “Fine. My way it is.”

            Before he could shift his truck into park, you were already diving into the trees & running at a full sprint. It wasn’t a second or two later when you heard Rafe’s door slam shut before the sound of foliage being crushed sounded behind you.

            “_____!” Rafe yelled, “Get back here!”

            His voice, full of anger & determination, bounced off the trees as you ran past them & further into the woods. You couldn’t see shit in the dark & you could feel your ankles stumbling & whining in discomfort as you tried to keep your feet ahead of you on the uneven earth. Scared tears coated your cheeks as you pumped your legs, begging to any god anywhere to please get you out of there. But no divine intervention intervened.

            It was the worst feeling you could imagine when you felt a hand grip the fabric of your jacket & yank you backwards. The wind was knocked out of you when Rafe threw you to the forest floor.

            “We coulda worked this out.” Rafe huffed as he stood over you.

            You rolled onto your side, desperate for your lungs to open so you could breathe. But Rafe circled around you like a vulture getting ready for the kill. You weren’t sure you’d even get another breath of air before he stole whatever you had left.

            “We coulda talked, came to some sort of agreement!” He yelled in frustration, “But you’re just so fucking stubborn, so fucking defiant. You like that with Jack?”

            Rafe laughed darkly to himself, “Something tells me you’re not. You’re probably the most perfect woman with him.”

            You gasped sharply, painfully, when your lungs finally opened. Then you were coughing. But as you were coughing, you were searching for your bag in the dark. The taser. If you got your hands on that, you may have a chance.

            “Looking for this.” Rafe questioned.

            In the dark, you peered over at him as he held your purse by a single finger. He shook his head knowingly before gathering it in the palm of his hand & chucking it into the forest. You heard it thud somewhere in the distance. Fresh tears escaped you as Rafe used his shoe to roll you over onto your back.

            “Please, Rafe, don’t. I’m sorry for running.” You weren’t, but it was survival now to kiss up to him.

            But Rafe just stared down at you, “It’s too late for your apologies.”

            He bent at the knees then before grabbing a fistful of your hair & forcing you upwards into a sitting position. A pained whimper parted your lips, forcing you to bite your lip to stifle them.

            “What do you want then?” You cried out, your hands clinging to the grip he held on your hair.

            “Same thing as before.” Rafe responded, his voice flat & emotionless. You stopped crying to stare at him. He only gazed at you unfeelingly.

            “No.” You shook in his hold. “No!”

            You screamed & thrashed, trying to kick at him but Rafe easily overpowered you, forcing you back on your back as he climbed on top of you.

            “No! No! No!” You screamed, cried, begged over & over again. But all of your fight was falling on deaf ears. You beat your fists against his chest & back as he wrestled with you to get your jeans off. The chill of the forest erupted your skin with goosebumps & you felt like your heart was going to burst outside of your chest.

            Rafe was quick to remove his own jeans, shoving them down his thighs. Once he did, he focused on your upper half, yanking your arms out the sleeves of your jacket before pulling the top of your tube top down. You were practically fully naked in the middle of nowhere with Rafe Cameron on top of you.

            But that didn’t matter. You never stopped resisting him, never stopped trying to get him off you or hurt him. Everything you did though, it was like it didn’t register to him. Like he didn’t feel any of it. You knew Rafe was scary but this was a new level. He was a fucking monster.

            His fingers hooked around the fabric of your underwear & tugged on it until you heard the seams snap & tear. You desperately reached for the back of his hand, grabbing two handfuls of his hair before yanking as hard as you could.

            It was the first reaction Rafe gave. He hissed in response, ripping his head out from under your grasp. It was a short-lived win before you saw him raise the back of his hand & whip it across your face. A sharp gasp left you at the assault, & you tasted blood on your tongue as your lower lip burned.

            “This is what you said, _____.” Rafe snarled as he finished tearing your underwear from your body, “’Man up & give her what she deserves’. Those are your words.”

            Sobs racked your body as he repeated back to you your own demand of him.

            “That’s exactly,” He snatched you by the throat & raised you up enough until his face was only an inch away from your own, “what I’m doing. I’m giving you exactly what you deserve. What I should’ve done from the beginning.”

            He released you, & your head smacked against the soft earth but it did little to comfort the blow.

            You whimpered like a beaten & abused dog as Rafe wrestled your legs apart to fit himself snugly in between them. You placed your hands on his chest, using all your strength to prevent him from crushing you with his body but your strength was nothing compared to his. He forced your elbows to bend as he lowered himself on top of you until your chest were pressed against one another.

            “Don’t cry.” He kissed you on the side of your mouth, forcing you to whip your face away from him, “It’s nothing we haven’t done already.”

            A sharp pain shot up your spine as Rafe forced himself inside you. He chuckled darkly to himself as one of his hands caught you by your chin, forcing you to look at him. You desperately searched for anywhere else to look that wasn’t him but he was all you could see. That smug & evil smirk, the glint & prideful glow in his eyes. It only grew worse when he began to groan as he snapped his hips against yours.

            Your fingers dug themselves into the earth as Rafe raped you on the forest floor. You were hyperventilating beneath him, unfeeling from the waist down, but it was a nightmare you couldn’t wake up from. You wished you could do what some women had reported happening when they were raped & how they were able to shut off their mind & go anywhere else, but yours wasn’t doing that. It was happening & you couldn’t stop it.

            Rafe tucked his face into your neck as he moaned loudly & freely, like a predator having caught his unwilling prey in the world of beasts. No one was coming. No one could hear your cries. This was Darwinism at it’s finest. Only the strong survived.

            Your tears had stopped but you were still panting, staring past Rafe’s head at the tops of the trees. You couldn’t make out the night sky beyond them. Everywhere you looked was pitch darkness, & you saw it most whenever Rafe forced you to look at him while he fucked you to his hearts content.

            It felt like hours before he finally came. He growled like the beast he was as he thrusted himself inside you as deep as he could go. You groaned in pain as your hips flared at the stretch of them. Your body shook beneath him as he stilled completely above you. But you could still feel his cock spitting his seed inside of you. The fact of that made bile rise in your throat.

            Rafe rolled off you a second later, hissing as his own body shook with the aftershocks of his orgasm. An ungodly burning & stinging pain originated from between your legs & you were terrified to see what he did to you.

            Then he started laughing. It wasn’t the loud, jovial kind you often heard in your bar, but the snarky, cocky kind that reminded you exactly of who he was in high school. You had heard it plenty of times.

            “God, that was good.” Rafe breathed out, “My imagination whenever I fuck Jules doesn’t even come close to that.”

            Jules’ face flashed through your mind & you rushed upwards. You turned to the side, holding your stomach as you bent over & vomited. Tears returned to your eyes, blurring your already dizzying vision as you emptied what little contents were in your stomach. As you continued to only throw up stomach acid & a few bites of food, you felt a hand on your back.

            A fit of fury came over you & you lashed out at Rafe as he attempting to comfort you. After he just raped you! It was a joke.

            But Rafe yowled as you swung your arm at him. This stole your attention & you peered through your dirtied hair as Rafe held his face. When he removed his hand to inspect his hand, you marveled at the three scratch marks going from his forehead down over his right eye & ending on his cheek.

            All you could do was start laughing. And then you couldn’t stop. You were laughing hysterically, pointing at Rafe like he was a kid on the playground who just got humiliated in front of everyone. He snarled at you, knocking your hand away & catching you by the throat.

            “You think that’s funny?” He sneered.

            You grinned, still laughing despite your air being restricted. Rafe growled before throwing you back to the forest floor.

            “I’ll tell you what’s funny, _____.” He yanked on your shoulder, turning you over to face him, “Here’s the deal. And its your only two options so I’d listen real fucking close.”

            You glared up at him, wanting nothing more than to finished what claws did & tear his skin completely from his face.

            “You’re gonna get in my fucking truck, we’re going to the apartment, & you’re going to go to your room. I’m going into Jules & I’m either going to A. break up with her & tell her we’re together or B. do to her what I just did to you. And I’ll do far worse to her.”

            The threat forced your panic riddled body to leap upwards, “Don’t!”

            “I won’t, unless you make me. That’s your choice, _____. I either stay with her & hurt her every fucking day, or I get you & I’ll never lay a finger on her.”

            You shook your head, staring up at him, “Please, Rafe, you got what you wanted. Just leave us alone.”

            He sighed, kneeling down to be eye level with you, “I want you. All of you. All the time. And for everyday I go without that, Jules will suffer.”

            Imagining Rafe doing to Jules what he just did to you forced fresh sobs from you. You covered your mouth to stifle the cries. You couldn’t let him do that to her. You didn’t care if it meant she’d hate you forever. You just couldn’t let him hurt her. No one deserved that. Not even you. But were strong. You may have been Rafe’s prey that night, but you were a survivor. But if you knew what Rafe was doing to Jules every day in & night out, you’d never be able to live with yourself. One way or another, someone was getting hurt. You knew it had to be you.

            “So?” Rafe tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, “We have a deal?”

            You leaned away from his touch, but peered up at him through your wet lashed.

            Rafe saw the resolve in your eyes. He grinned devilishly.

            Only the strong survive, you repeated to yourself.

            Only the strong survive.

i'm fuckin' whipped, babes. like whhhhhiiiipped. i cannot believe i cranked this out in less than 12 hours but fuck. i. did. it.

this is 3/10 requests from my 500 followers celebration request opening!

as always, please share your thoughts w me via commenting, reblogging w reviews, or talking to me in the ask box. i'm super antsy to here what ya'll think of this ridiculously lengthy one shot.

thank you for reading! & thank you for the anon who requested, i hope they are happy!

oona<3

Read this post on why doing more than liking a tumblr writers work is essential to our content creation.

[my love language is words of affirmation, it would make my day if you could comment your thoughts, reblog with tags, or drop an ask that shows your support. thank you for reading tumblr writers, we appreciate you]

taglist: @jsrafesgirl @bunnycvnts @ditzyzombiesblog

to be added to a taglist read rule 11 here. requests will be dismissed otherwise.

[kiame-sama]

Drag Me To Hell- (Yandere!Alastor x Chubby!Fem!reader) pt 2.

Warnings; same warnings apply from Hazbin Hotel as to here, but if you know Hazbin, you're already prepared for what's coming, spoilers for episode 1 of Hazbin, a bit more "background" for reader, fem pronouned reader,

~~~~~~~~

"I swear, if you film me goin' at it with mister fancy-talk creepy voice here, you'd be rollin' in participants willin' to stay at this tacky hotel."

"Haha, never going to happen."

You glanced over from where you sat at Husker's bar, seeing Angel Dust make a few gestures to Alastor. The Radio Demon in question had a sneer on his face disguised as a wide grin, almost seeming annoyed with the consistent light flirting from Angel.

Angel would never have him.

Alastor- as you knew him- was not an overly sexual being, and anything that did come over him was fleeting if even substantial enough to act on. Besides, he was not one to expose himself to just anyone. It took decades for Alastor to come to you, and you were by his side more often than anyone else in his demonic life. You suspected part of why he was even willing to approach you about the matter was because you were already the equivalent of a lady in waiting to him.

His living diary. His secretary. His studio assistant. His bed-fellow. His ensnared soul bound eternally to be loyal to him alone. His favorite soul in the entire collection.

You weren't his strongest- if anything, you were his weakest- but you were his favorite.

"Hey," Angel started, "I have a question, if freaky-face over there is so powerful, then why can't he just make people stay here?"

"Oh, trust me," the light around Alastor faded and his antlers slightly grew, "I can!"

It was then Husker spoke up, a bottle in hand and a frown on his face.

"Why do you think I'm here?"

The hell-cat bartender was a familiar face to you. He was yet another soul in Alastor's repertoire and his contract was one that made you pity the gruff demon. You were there when it was struck after-all, not that Husker knew that.

Alastor didn't like going places without you, so he would often contain you inside of his microphone cane. In a sense, you were the spirit possessing his microphone. Where it went, so did you, meaning you were always by Alastor's side. Of course, you could be separate from it, he just didn't usually want you to be. An eternal summon bound by the shred of demonic power you had to your name.

"You actually think I'd be cleaning bottles and listening to you fucks bitch and moan all the time if he wasn't forcin' me?"

"I like being forced."

"Keep that to yourself, Niff."

The sudden interjection from Nifty actually made you laugh, knowing the twisted inner workings of another of Alastor's 'summons'. Nifty was more like you than Husker, far more intertwined to Alastor and his whims than others. Nifty was more of a pet to Alastor- not that you were any better- and she kept things tidied to Alastor's standards.

"Never change, Nifty."

She smiled at you and Husker rolled his eyes, wiping down the same bottle once again. Husker was damn good at being a bartender and listening, even if he bitched about it while it happened. Between the three of you, you all were used to Alastor and his general behavior in most situations. As Alastor's confidant and microphone, you knew him better than anyone else and even then there were things you didn't know about him.

"Darling, can we talk a moment?"

The words sent anxiety down your spine, but you were quick to answer the non-optional summons. Walking up to his side he lazily wrapped an arm around you, leading you away from the group.

"Yes, Alastor?"

"Ah-ah, what did we talk about?"

"Sorry... Yes... Dear?"

"Hm, I never get tired of hearing that. I just wanted you away from them for a bit, that's all~"

Part of you wondered if Alastor was being serious or not, but decided that he had done far deadlier things to other demons for far less than vaguely annoying him by existing. If anything, his new interest in 'pet-names' was a recent development that likely had to do with his growing jealousy. You had been with Alastor on his seven-year 'sabbatical' and now you both were among others like this. It was clear to you that he was finding himself a bit more possessive of you.

"Just happy to have you here, and trust me, I'll make sure you never leave."

[notapradagurl7]

Keep A Distance.

Pairings: Black Fem! Cop!Reader x Armando Aretas.

Fandom: “Bad Boys” Film Universe.

Summary: You were a cop working on the runaway Armando Aretas case, alongside Mike and Marcus but decided to go solo by working undercover.

Taglist: @lovedlover @planetblaque @megamindsecretlair @westside-rot @keyera-jackson @browngirldominion @swavydadon @playgurlxoxo @nerdieforpedro

Warnings: PWP, doesn't follow the film’s timeline, profanity, mention of guns, mention of violence, erotic asphyxiation/choking, Armando being persistent to the reader, dacryphila, consensual for both parties, short fic.

————

The light from the computer illuminated on your brown skin with your hand resting on the mouse, clicking on the file on the desktop with the picture of vibrant roses. Opening the file, your eyes scan the information and criminal records.

All that work just to lose him out of your sight again.

“Armando Aretas is still on the loose after taking control of the Aretas cartel when his mother was tragically burned in a fire.” the reporter spoke up.

You sighed and shook your head in disapproval, you pushed the power button on the remote, turning off the television, there was no way to catch this guy after playing this game of cat and mouse. Your finger pressed the power button and watched the computer fade to black.

You were working for the Miami Police Department as a cop, moving your way to a respected and it was every man and woman looking out for themselves.

It was a shame that you had to endure the shit from men and women in the police department.

Standing up from the desk, you walked out of your office. You approached the main office with determination.

Marcus and Mike stood by each other, you gave them fist bumps while "What's the latest, detective?" Mike asked, leaning against the desk with a smirk.

"Same old, same old. Aretas is still slipping through our fingers," you replied, crossing your arms. "I think it’s time I take matters into my own hands."

Marcus raised an eyebrow. "You sure about that? You know this guys plays fucking dirty."

“Yeah, well, dirty is my middle name,” you shot back, the fire in your belly igniting.

“Just keep your head on straight, alright?” Marcus warned, his tone serious. “We can’t afford to lose you too.”

You shrugged off their concern. “I appreciate it, but I’m not going in blind. I have a plan.”

“Which involves what? Seducing him?” Mike chuckled, but you noticed a flicker of concern in his eyes.

“Something like that,” you replied, your smile a little too sly. “I’ll get close enough to gather intel; I won’t get too comfortable.”

“Uh-huh,” Marcus said, not buying it. “And what makes you think he won’t be the one to get too comfortable?”

Mike knew that you could take care of yourself but Armando was his son, he had Mike’s genes running through him. Once Mike called Armando the fucked up version of himself.

“Because I know how to keep a distance,” you replied, your voice steady.

“Just remember, he’s not some petty thief. He’s dangerous, Armando is Mike’s son” Marcus reiterated.

“I can handle myself,” you asserted, turning on your heel. “I’ve got this.”

As you stepped out of the precinct, the Miami heat hit you like a wall. You pulled your box braids into a tight bun, adjusting your badge before heading to your car. You knew you had to find Armando's weaknesses, and if it meant playing the role of an alluring enigma, then so be it.

Later that night, you found yourself at a dimly-lit bar, the kind where the shadows danced as much as the patrons. You leaned against the bar, scanning the room. The air was thick with tension as a mix of laughter and whispered conversations filled the space.

“Can I get you something?” the bartender asked, snapping you from your thoughts.

“Whiskey, neat,” you replied, your gaze still fixed on the entrance.

Moments later, the door swung open, and in walked Armando Aretas. He was a silhouette of charm and danger, his presence commanding the attention of everyone in the room. Your heart raced as he scanned the crowd, his eyes landing on you.

“Is this seat taken?” he asked, sliding onto the barstool next to you, his voice smooth like velvet.

“Depends on who’s asking,” you replied, your tone playful yet guarded.

“Armando,” he said, extending his hand, his eyes never leaving yours.

“[Your Name],” you introduced yourself, shaking his hand firmly. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Only good things, I hope,” he smirked, leaning in closer, the intoxicating scent of his cologne wrapping around you.

“Depends on your definition of good,” you shot back, your pulse quickening.

He chuckled softly, clearly intrigued. “You’re not like the others…I like that.”

“Keep your distance, Aretas,” you warned, your voice low and steady, but the chemistry between you was undeniable.

“Why would I do that when I’m enjoying this conversation?” he replied, his gaze piercing through you.

“Because this isn’t a game you want to play,” you said, your heart racing at the thrill of the chase.

“Oh, I think it is. And I always win,” he whispered, his voice dripping with confidence.

“So I heard that you're looking for me, Detective [Last Name]” he smirked, eyeing you up and down. His eyes remained on your ass.

You swatted his hand out of the way, and narrowed your gaze. “My eyes are up here, you're gonna come in with me. I'll arrest you and this case will be over..”

Armando smirked at you, snatching your gun that was attached to your belt. Your fist connects with his cheek as blood spills from his chin, he spits it out on the floor.

“I guess it's not over yet..” He smirked, stepping closer to you.

You were supposed to leave, you wanted to cuff him and take him into your car. But you couldn't, the heat between your thighs made you stifle a moan.

“Was all this chasing after you, a trick to get me all to yourself Armando?” you asked seductively, smirking.

Armando's eyes darkened with desire as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. "Maybe it was, detective. Maybe I wanted to see just how far you'd go to catch me." His hand trailed down your arm, sending shivers down your spine.

You fought against the growing heat in your body, reminding yourself of the mission at hand. But the magnetic pull between you and Armando was undeniable. The danger only added to the thrill, fueling the fire that burned between you.

As his lips brushed against your neck, your resolve wavered. "We can't do this," you whispered, though your voice lacked conviction.

Armando chuckled darkly, his hand on your waist. Pulling your face closer to his, when he wanted something or someone, a desideratum for him.

He only did this just to get closer to you, he planned everything just to see your pretty face again. The

But this mission left you fuddled and to save face, you kept your cool instead of admitting it. Did he want you?

"Who says we can't mix business with pleasure, detective?" His words sent a jolt of electricity through you, igniting a hunger you couldn't deny.

In a haze of desire and adrenaline, you found yourself giving in to the temptation. Crashing his lips into yours, tongues turned in sync. You moaned in the kiss, and he led you to the car.

Next thing you know, you were under him on his bed and kissing him sloppily. Both of your clothes were littered across the bedroom floor, the soft smack of your lips colliding with his filled the room.

His naked body against yours from the front with glossy sweat, his hips thrusting into you without mercy, as if it was a vindictive yet almost loving type of fuck. His tongue glided across your neck, wanting to leave hickeys on you.

The moonlight peeked through the curtains, and shone on your brown skin. Your brown braids pool around your pretty face, your mouth agape only to let out loud drunk moans and slurred screams.

There you were, fucking your enemy in the dark. Thankful that he couldn't see your face twist up in pleasure, “I bet you look so pretty taking every inch of my dick mami..like a good slut,” he praised, cutting himself off with a raspy moan.

Your hand rested on the back of his neck, bringing him for another sloppy kiss. Leaving a chain of spit between your lips and his, “That dick is so good…” you mumbled, your head fell to the pillow.

Your slick pussy gripped around his dick tight, feeling his inch after inch.

“Oh..fuck! Armando!” You cried out, your vision blurred with tears rolling down your watery cheeks. Teeth trapped under your lips only to be sucked off by Armando, moaning muffled with each kiss. Your tears turned him on quickly.

His head ducked and halted between your titties, wrapping his warm mouth around your nipple. Thighs smacking against your ass, the sound similar to clapping, wetness enveloped his thick dick entirely, Suckling it roughly while pinching your left nipple, “Fuckk! M-more,” you croaked.

Balling your hand in the blanket you turned into a wet, blubbering mess underneath the male. “I’m yours now? So fucking wet..” he grunted deeply, you whimperrd in response. His hand wrapped around your neck, bringing you in for a quick kiss to your lips.

“You’re mine papi, all mine..” you moaned loudly, drooling trickling at the corner of your lip. Unable to speak from the pleasure.

This was better than you imagined, your guts being rearranged by the man you loathed so much but he was here with you. His hand smacked across your ass, you whined lowly. “Fuck!”

“Being inside you is a dream true, suck a good girl..” he groaned, rutting against you without mercy.

Your climax hit you rapidly like a tsunami crashing through without warming, your sticky essence gushed down on his dick and you screamed loudly, falling on the blanket.

He followed suit by pulling out of you, falling beside your body and kissing your shoulder. You panted heavily through it.

“T-this can't happen again..” you murmured raspily, shaking your head. trying to confess to yourself that this was a one-time thing.

Armando hummed lightly with a soft chuckle, “Are you sure about that? You did say that I'm yours..” he panted lowly.

You almost dozed off until he gently picked you up bridal style, carrying you into the bathroom as he flipped the light switch. He turned the faucet, you heard the squeak.

Filling the tub with foam soap, at the right temperature, You were placed in the tub, allowing the water to soothe the ache in your body and pussy, sighing blissfully. You watched him walk into the shower and proceed to wash himself clean.

You washed yourself clean from the weight of the day, you fell asleep in his bed with him. Beside his body, dressed in your clean panties and gray tee shirt.

As the sun began to rise, casting golden hues through the window, you made a silent vow to yourself. You left quickly with everything you had, keeping this a secret.

You had to keep a distance, but the memory of that night with Armando would linger, a dangerous secret that bound you together in ways you never thought possible.

The next day, you returned home and sat in your desk chair in front of your computer. Quiet as a church mouse, which made everyone worry about. It wasn't normal for you to be quiet from their perspective.

Marcus and Mike knocked on your door, the sound tore your attention from the computer. You jumped from the sound, placing a hand on your chest.

“Come in!” you called out, seeing the pair through the office window.

They stepped inside, concern etched on their faces. Mike leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, while Marcus took a seat in the chair opposite you.

“Hey, you alright?” Mike asked, his tone softer than usual. “You’ve been unusually quiet since yesterday.”

You flashed a tight smile, the memory of last night flooding your mind. “Yeah, just a lot on my mind.”

Marcus raised an eyebrow, scrutinizing you. “A lot, huh? Or should we be concerned about that ‘solo mission’ you took on?”

You shrugged, keeping your expression neutral. “It was just a quick check-in. Nothing major.”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes. “You guys know I can handle myself. I’m not a rookie.”

“True, but it’s not just about handling yourself,” Marcus interjected, his voice serious. “It’s about the risks involved. Armando Aretas is dangerous.”

You leaned back in your chair, crossing your arms defensively. “He got away.”

“He did?” Mike asked you, raising a brow.

“Yeah, he was too fast and strong.” you added softly, looking up at the ceiling.

“Well, guess this case is closed huh?” Marcus asked, pursing his lips.

You nodded your head slowly, “Yes, and let’s just get to normal. What’s the melody to Bad Boys song? Bad boys, Bad Bo—” you sang playfully until Mike and Marcus interjected.

“Hey, hey, hey get your own theme song and learn the lyrics!” Macurs joked, his face twisted up a bit with a chuckle.

“Yeah, that's our theme song, but you did amazing on this case..” Mike added with a chuckle, smiling at you.

“My bad, thanks for believing in me guys..” you replied with a warm tone.

You gave the men fist bumps, watching them walk out of your office. Feeling a wave of relief wash over you, so much for keeping a secret. But it was over and you couldn't see him.

You could afford to blur the lines between business and pleasure, mixing them together was bad enough. You were done, now back to business only.

——————

Part Two.

[carmenized-onions]

Doing Too Much. | House Call

logline; Appliances can reach their breaking point, when you push them too far. Same goes for people.

[!!!] series history, this is the sixth; First, Second, Third, Fourth, Fifth

[New Thing!!] Spotify Playlist, if you like to listen while you read. I listen to it when I write :) Constantly gettin' added to.

portion; 4.8k

possible allergies; eatin' meat, besides that, we're pretty good actually. did somebody say calm before the storm....?

pairing; Carmen ‘Carmy’ Berzatto & Fem Reader (no pronouns, but girl is said a couple times, i believe.)

After this chapter, I'm entering my era of couch hopping as I move to a new city n start a new job. I'm really excited for the chapter after this one, so hopefully I actually get time to write it-- But that's just my lil warning if you're left rereading for like two weeks </3 But I'll def be stalking my activity/inbox so please do yap to me

Monday morning. The next morning after everything. Well, closer to noon than morning, at this point. You’re supposed to have, what, a work ethic this week? After the most insane weekend of your life? No. You’re lazing around and doing fuck all. No matter who calls. Well… Not completely no matter, but like, most people.

When you check your phone, you’ve gotten a text at 6:43 A.M. Unknown number. Ah. Carmen. You put him in as Carmy, and put his nickname as ‘Mister New York’. Listen, old nicknames Mikey ingrained in your brain die hard.

It’s a simple text, deeply un-romantic.

‘Connections Puzzle #342’

Then, four lines of four perfect categories. Flawless. Purple first, even. The hardest category. And then,

‘Morning’

Stupid. Incredibly stupid, to be enamoured, by this. You reply,

‘Good morning!’

‘Connections Puzzle #342’

And then a failed jumble of coloured squares, you get one out of four categories. What the fuck is 'dogleg' and since when has it meant taking a sharp turn? You follow that up with,

‘Fuck you.’

Aside from Carmen, you’ve actually gotten texts from a couple people. Your boss at Eden’s asking if you’re alright. What the fuck did Cicero say? Oh well. You tell him you’ve ‘been better, been worse. Will be okay by next week.’ Perfectly vague, and you still get wired your cheque and tip out. Alright, maybe Uncle J does deserve your free labour.

Speaking of, the next text on your itinerary is from Uncle J, just info for the winter nuptials of Vinnie and Mira. Oh yeah. Three-hundred guests, you remember that part. You also remember him saying it’d be an ‘easy gig’… He did not mention you’d be the only bartender. This is going to be a nightmare. Oh well. You text back that despite it being an open bar you get to put out a tip jar. He just reacts to it, ‘haha’. That sounds like a yes to you.

And then, adorably, a selfie from Syd, wearing the collar and pins you’ve gifted her, under a green sweater. Cutie. You hype her up accordingly.

Besides some texting though, Monday is relatively unbusy. No calls. No emergencies. No businesses knocking down your door for your services. You’re thankful for a break, letting the inertia set in, finally being able to relax after fix after fix after—

Tuesday comes, you get sent another perfect round of New York Time’s Connections around half past six in the morning, along with a good morning text. And again, you fuck it up. You send him your Wordle results this time, as an act of rebellion. You then ask,

‘How’s reworking the menu going?’

‘Hard to say’

‘Ask me tomorrow’

God he’s an awful texter. Horrifically dry. You know you’re down bad beyond a belief when you find that endearing. You spend Tuesday drowning and pruning your plants after depriving them for so long.

Plus working on your art piece for Carmy. You’re pulling out old film photos, a canvas, and a load of bleach—It’s like high school art class all over again— Surprise surprise, the handyman who loves to up-cycle is a mixed media artist. Who could’ve guessed?

While trimming a photo, an exterior of The Beef, a picture frame on your wall falls down behind you, you tut, turning your head to it, chastising the air. “Mikey! It’s a copy, relax! I’ve still got the original print…”

There’s every chance you’re insane— No, you’re definitely insane. But you’re allowed to be, your best friend died, you’re allowed to talk to the air as if he’s still around. Sometimes the timing of doors swinging open for you and things falling down are just too uncanny to not be a ghost.

Wednesday arrives, and again, just after 6:40, Connections results. And the Wordle, this time; plus a ‘Good Morning’. It looks like this is simply just your thing, now. Every morning, the second both of you get up, you send each other puzzles and wish a good morning. You don’t mind that. It’s nice to have a ‘thing’, with someone. With Carmen.

Part way through the day, around two o’clock, you get another text. Two, actually. From Carmen, in quick succession.

‘Are you busy?’

‘Don’t worry if you’re busy. Can call Fak’

You’re quick to reply, frankly deeply offended.

‘Are you fucking firing me????’

‘I’m gonna get ready. Text me details’

While getting dressed, you watch three dots bubble, bubble, bubble… He’s taking forever, just don’t look at it, you’ll get anxious for no reason. No jumpsuit today, you’ve got to switch it up every now and again. Navy cargo pants with the perfect number of pockets and zippers, and an orange Chicago’s Kindest shirt, tucked in. Hm. Looking in the mirror, hickey is still there. Lighter, but there. Foundation? No. You’ll sweat it off and that’ll just bring up more questions. If Syd asks you’ll just tell her you fell down the stairs… On your neck. She's not the type to confront anything remotely sexual anyways.

Speaking of Syd, before Carmen can text you back, she calls you, which is fair— Don’t leave a Carmen to communicate. You stick your phone in the crux of your neck and answer while you pack your utility belt. This feels nearly nostalgic. “What’s fucked?”

Carmen is in the background; you can hear the tail end of a sentence, grumbling. “—Don’t call—”

“My life.” She responds without missing a beat. “And also, Carmy’s stove and oven.”

“Oh.” You squint. “What the fuck happened?”

“Overuse? I actually don’t fucking know, it just stopped working. We plugged it in and out— He even reset his apartment’s breakers. I dunno what’s wrong with it. It’s probably got something to do with him putting his fuckin’ jeans in there.”

“…He what?”

You can hear him in the background, again, clearer this time, grimacing, “What are you doing to me?”

Syd does not mind him at all, continuing, “I know! He’s fucking weird!”

“He’s extremely weird.” You like him a lot. “I’ll be over soon, were you guys like, mid-cooking?”

“Yessir.”

“Christ, alright… I think I have a dual burner hot plate laying around somewhere, you want me to bring it—”

They both speak clearly this time, together, “Please.”

You’ve got a pile of things to give to them anyways, and maybe you miss Carmy’s face. Just a little.

Instead of just buzzing you in, Carmy comes down for you. When he sees you through the door window, carrying a cardboard box, he almost breaks into a full run. He’s somehow opening the door, grabbing the box from your hands, and chastising you all at the same time. “You should’ve left it in the car, I would’ve—”

You step in through the entryway and kiss his cheek, cutting him short. You can’t help yourself, it’s the first time you’ve seen him since and you feel like a giddy teen. The teenage girl in your head is no longer just in your head, she’s fully manning the station. “You’re very sweet. But it’s also not heavy.”

When he continues to be frozen, the regret starts to mount, “Is—Sorry, is that okay to do—?”

“It’s very okay to do.” He manages to reply, with haste. Nodding to himself. “It’s good.” He nods again, then marches off, expecting you to follow to the elevator. You do.

“What floor?”

“Eighth.” He sniffs; you press the button. He stands next to you, looking you up and down. He astutely observes. “Orange.”

“Yeah.” You smirk, looking back at him, “Turns out, businesses can have two colours in their designs.”

What’s a little roasting of fellow small businesses between two not just friends?

“Oh yeah?” Coy, smirking. Oh no. You’ve gotta get the teen off the controls. He tilts his vision to stare at your jacket. Ah. You opted to wear your Carhartt instead of his jean jacket.

“Didn’t wanna give Syd more questions.” She already guessed you’re a sugar baby, you don’t want to wrap Carmen in on that too. Especially since ideally in a month or two he’ll be your boss. Hm. The Bear is going to need an HR.

He hums, nodding. “We’re not telling Syd?”

“What’s there to tell?” You grin, crossing your arms. “You suddenly have free time, Bear?”

He takes a beat, thinking, then just takes a deep frustrated yet amused exhale. “I’m gonna fuckin’…” He can’t think of a threat. “…Get you.”

You snort, “You’re gonna get me?”

“Fuck you—!” “You’re gonna fuckin’ get me, Bear?”

“I—” He tries to hold a straight face, it doesn’t work. “Yeah, I am.”

“Can’t wait.” You nod, grinning, turning back to the doors. “You told me to ask how menu’s going tomorrow.”

“I did.”

“It’s tomorrow.” The door dings, opening on the eighth floor; you step out together. He switches his grip to hold the box in one arm. Alright Biceps, we don’t need to brag here...

“It’s… We’re getting there.” He grimaces. “Syd’s recipes are always… Almost perfect.”

“Ah.” You nod, you know your friend well enough to know where this is going. “And she fucks up one thing hard?”

“Mhm.”

“And when you tell her it’s okay and give her a hand she just feels worse?”

He nods. A touch surprised you’re right on the dot so quickly. “Everything ends up perfect, but I think she’s finding the edits…”

“Demoralizing.” You walk down the hall together, he nods. “I know what she needs, I’ll find an in.”

“You always do.” He hums, you walk just a touch ahead of him, unknowingly walking past his door. He pulls you back by the back of your jacket, making you stumble back into him. This seems to be this villain’s intention; as when you turn around, he’s quick to grab your chin and kiss you.

“It’s very good.” He emphasizes, again, before opening his door and acting like everything’s totally normal and fine. Since when did he turn the tables and make you the desperate one? Son of a bitch.

Ah. Actually, subtract any attraction you had in this moment— He lives like this? Books on the floor, by the window. Jeans on the dinner table, because they were in the oven. The kitchen actually looks alright— You’re almost certain that’s purely for utilitarian purposes while they’re working on the menu. This motherfucker better have a bed frame or him asking you to sleep over would be downright offensive. God, he’s wonderful. God, you’re an idiot.

You find Syd at the table, moping, head in hands. Carmen sets the box down, sitting beside her. You pat the top of her head. She silently moves one of her hands to go over yours. You nod. The silent exchange of girls who know.

“Yeah?”

She nods, grumbling. “Yeah.”

Carmen has no fucking idea what’s happening and he’s never been more intrigued by a near wordless social interaction in his entire life. What? You’re not even making eye-contact. What the fuck is happening?

You fish through the box with your free hand, grabbing a pot. You place it in front of Syd. “Look.”

She peeks through her fingers. A tiny but flourishing nursery pot of basil sits before her. You speak. “You’re gonna hyper-fixate on this basil I’m gifting you, and then you’re gonna crack back into it with the dual burner until I’m done fixing the oven.”

She nods, putting her hands in her lap, “Yes, Chef.”

You pull out a second nursery pot, setting it down for Carmen. “For you.”

“What for?”

“Basil grows like a motherfucker and it’s getting unhinged. I need to start pawning off to people that’ll make good use of it. A-K-A, chefs.” You look at Syd, pointedly, “Talented chefs.”

You hand off the heating pad— Wrapped in brown paper with a card tied to it, to Carmen. “For Nat.” You add, when he looks confused, “Can’t imagine I’ll see her sooner than you will.”

He looks even more confused, when you hand him a spray bottle full of reddish water. It’s one of the good spray bottles, too. Continuous. Carmen wouldn’t know the difference, but you do. “Rosemary. —Water, that is.”

He squints; you clarify, gesturing to your own hair. “You mentioned, losing hair, so— Thought I’d make some, with the trimmings of rosemary I had. Got ginger and cloves in it, too.”

Why have you trapped him in hell? You’ve remembered such a specific off hand from days ago and acted on it? And he can’t express the grandiose level of affection he feels right now? Are you serious? You’re the devil. You’re absolutely the devil. He just coughs out a ‘thanks’.  

“And, the pièce de résistance,” You pull out the old ass, boxed up double burner countertop stove. “A stovetop that ideally fuckin’ works. It was my single claim to fame in my college dormitory.”

Carmen’s already opening the box. Sydney smirks, curiosity peaked. “Was that legal?”

“You a fuckin’ RA?” You grin, poking her forehead. “It was not. And that’s exactly why everyone loved me— Didn’t serve them fuckin’ hot pockets.”

The configurations of Carmen’s apartment would be great for literally any occasion besides the current one. The kitchen is narrow, and so, when you pull out the stove to check the back, there’s an estimated no fucking room left for Carm and Syd, so they sit at the dinner table with your stove top. You’d think they’d look like they’re doing a cute hot pot. No. They look like two conflicted and confused twelve-year-olds working on a science project.

So do you, honestly. Wiring is definitely more your speed than plumbing, but if you’re being honest, this is the first oven you’ve worked on without your dad, and you’re having a hard time remembering everything. There’s a lot of embarrassed Googling on your phone, when you're sure they’re not looking. They can’t know you’re even slightly incompetent!

You’re pretty sure it’s just a couple damaged wires, fried from overwork— Easy fix, if you had wire. You don’t. Slightly harder fix. But soldering is your bitch really, you’re in your bag. You look stupid, wearing chunky goggles and a respirator, but you’re in your bag, baby! What’s that one saying? Skills make you hot? That’s not a saying.

But it is true. When Carmen’s able to peer into the kitchen, quickly looking over his shoulder when Syd takes a moment to write a measurement or direction down, you look stunning.  Respirator and all. You just look correct there, in the kitchen. His kitchen. So stunning he feels guilty. Do you find it annoying? Constantly fixing errors behind him? Probably. You say it’s not a lot of work, but that can’t be true.

“How’s The Bear, ‘sides menu rework?” You ask, raising your voice in the kitchen.

“S’good.” Carmen. “I’m in hell.” Syd. Not hard to tell which statue is lying, here.

Syd stutters on, “Nat’s takin’ care of baby Michaela— Which is very good and—and cool, actually.”

“But?”

“But we’re back to handling the business side entirely ourselves, for like— The next month. Maybe two? Fuck, are we doing the wedding without her?” Sydney almost burns her sauce, Carmen’s quick to move it off the burner.

He mutters, “Don’t even start to think about it. It’s gonna be fine. We’re gonna figure it out.”

“Oh yeah, wedding— Have you gotten your menu yet?” You call from the kitchen, muffled by your respirator.

“Oh my god!” Sydney exclaims, and Carmen is wincing. She can’t tell you things are going wrong; doesn’t she know that? You’ll fix it, if things are wrong. You always fix it. Fix him. You’re gonna put him in your phone as Carmy Bad News. If you haven’t already. Start a support group with Tif.

Syd continues, “They’re so fucking particular and somehow also vague—Like, ‘we want salmon and chicken’ for main course— What kind of preparation? ‘Surprise us!’ Okay, how about roasted chicken—? ‘Mmmm, no, not that’. I’ve been told ‘non quello’ at least ten times in the last four days.”

No, you’re witty. Bad News Bear. Fuck, that’s definitely his name in your phone, isn’t it?

“Fuckin’ nightmare. Y’know, I’m the only fucking bartender? For like three hundred guests? Thank God they’re not asking for a custom cocktail or anything, I’d lose my shit.”

Sydney laughs, and she steps back into her flow easily, reducing the sauce without burning it, now. She looks more serene than she has in days. What? How are you doing that? What are you doing? Are you casting a spell?

“Can you even fucking imagine what their couples’ cocktail would be?”

You groan from the kitchen, laughing in return, “Not you too, Syd! Must you make me work!?”

“C’mon maestro, make a cocktail!”

“Bleh. Uh… They give long island iced tea energy, but it’s a wedding so— Like a boozier negroni?”

“That sounds fucking disgusting.”

“I didn’t say it’d be good, I said it’d be their couples’ cocktail.” You’re both giggling, like school girls. It’s like you said— You become teens, together.

Despite the fact that Syd is making an incredibly complex dish, and you’re fixing an oven—His oven— Ridiculing the other impossible tasks set out for the both of you… Despite all of that, you’re laughing.

Carmen is, what, nearly thirty? A restaurant owner, with a full crew, who attends Al-Anon, and is only now truly registering the power of an unsolvable burden being shared. Not fixed, shared. Talking. Laughing. God, this all comes so easy to you, doesn’t it?

You finish soldering, test each burner, and the oven— All working, thank God. You quietly cheer in the kitchen, removing your respirator and goggles. “We’re good here! Fixed!”

“C’mere!” Syd calls out to you, and so you do. Eagerly. She hands you a fork. Unprompted, she does the thing. You’d missed the OG, really.

“Beef Oxtail, pressed in a Foie Gras casing, seared. Basted in a King Oyster mushroom sauce. Pureed greens on the side.”

“I never know what the fuck you’re saying.”

She pushes the side of your face with the palm of her hand. “Put it in your mouth and chew.”

You want to make some sort of kink joke, but you respect the already struggling man in the room and take a bite. Hm. Hm. You put a finger over your mouth, swallowing. “...Now it might just be my unrefined palate.”

“That’s why we have you try it.” Carmen pipes in. Syd nods, following. “It’s important to know the baseline.”

“…It’s got like,” You hand the fork to Syd so she can try it, while you think. “A bit of a bitter aftertaste? Which might be the… goal?”

Syd spits it out the second it touches her mouth, she shouts your name, your actual name— A rarity. She’s so terrified that she forgets the Walk-In bit she’s been in on all week. “I just fuckin’ poisoned you— Oh my god?! Are you good? That was— Fuck! You swallowed that?!”

She grabs your face like a concerned mother, also maybe to check if you have superpowers, you’re not sure. All you know is there’s a golden opportunity to make another sex joke and you have to hold back. Life is so unfair.

Carmen takes a quick taste, also spitting it out. “I’ve got it, Chef, don’t sweat.” Immediately looking to the drafted recipe card to see where they went wrong.

Syd almost squeezes your cheeks like a stress ball but thinks better of it, letting go, groaning, beyond frustrated at this point. “You shouldn’t have to fix it— I should fuckin’ have it, at this point.”

Carmen's trying to ignore how much he relates to the sentiment. He's not the focus, right now.

“We make mistakes, Chef—” “Syd.” You snap your fingers, pointing to her, interrupting Carmen. “Can you help me grab something, from my car? It’s kinda big.”

Carmen’s quick to chime in, already going to untie his apron, “I can—”

“No!” You look at him pointedly, trying to communicate through look alone. He kind of gets it? “It’s… Girl stuff.”

Syd squints. “You need me to help you carry a big girl thing?”

“…Are you fuckin’ helping or are you gonna poke holes?”

“What are you actually dragging me out for?”

“Technically I do actually need your help grabbing something, it’s just not a girl thing. And it's also not from my car.”

“Oh?”

You walk out of Carmen’s building with his keys, and gesture out to every apartment buildings treasure trove— The spot everyone throws their furniture when they move out and don’t know what else to do with it.

“Bookshelf!” There is actually one pristine looking bookshelf, a cheap one, definitely just something from IKEA. But it’s better than the fucking floor. “I spotted it on my way in, we’re gonna bring it up for Carm.”

She groans, hating the concept of manual labour, but still walks with you and grabs one end anyways. “Why didn’t you make Carmen carry his own bookshelf?”

“Because you need a fuckin’ pep-talk.” You pick the other end of the bookshelf up. It’s thankfully not that heavy. You walk backwards so you can keep facing Syd.

“…I don’t—” “Yes the fuck you do.”

She kisses her teeth, you frown. “What’s up, Adamu?”

“It’s just fucking annoying— I keep, I keep fucking it up. I keep—Keep—”

“Doing too much.”

She gives you a look, ‘are you serious?’, type look. You continue. “You’re doing too much. You’re not cooking like you.”

“I can cook like Michelin—”

“I never said you couldn’t. Watch your step.” You interrupt, walking over a bump in the sidewalk. “You can do star level shit, Syd. But that’s a grade, not a type.”

She kind of reels, at that. You continue, “You cook great complex dishes, you always have, I’ve tried them. But now, you’re all caught up trying to prove some shit, to Carmen, to—to— Who gives stars? The tires guy?”

She laughs, almost dropping the bookshelf. “Yeah, I’m trying to impress the tires guy.”

“Fuck you.” You snort, stepping up the stairs. “What I’m trying to say is, you should make what you want to eat, not what you think you should eat.”

She nods, you stop on top of the stairs, both taking a second to breathe. “…Thanks.”

You nod back, hands on your knees for a second before standing back up, opening the lobby door. “I’ll always be your cheerleader, Syd.”

“More like coach.”

“Can you let me have one hot girl career, please?”

When you get back up to Carmen’s, he’s already grimacing. You and Syd are split apart by the bookshelf standing between you in the hall. “Fuck is this?”

“It was free and I’ll clean it!” You press your hands together pleading. “C’mon, you can even put your jeans in it!”

“Jeans on a bookshelf?”

You turn to Syd. “Better than the oven.”

“I think he’s doing that to dry them.”

“I think it’s ‘cause he doesn’t own a dresser.”

“It’s both.” Carmen clicks his tongue, single-handedly picking up the bookshelf and carrying inside. Alright, does he need to show off this much? Whatever. It’s definitely not making you feel any type of way at all.

You squint, watching him walk further in his apartment, and then to Syd. You speak at the same time. “He stays doing too much.”

As promised, you wipe down the bookshelf, making sure it’s free of grime and roadside pests. Syd and Carmy work together in the kitchen, with a now functioning oven. You load the shelf up with the books on the floor— Thankfully they’re piled into categories already, so you don’t have to bother him about that.

You’re tempted to clean his living room, but that would probably be rude, right? Don’t want him to take it as you saying he’s a slob. But they are taking a while… Alright, you’ll just throw out trash. You won’t fold blankets or pick up dishes or anything. Just trash! No big! He can’t be mad at you for that.

You pile together the garbage, then sneakily throw it out in the kitchen trash can as fast as you can, before he looks. He’ll think he’s just sleep cleaning, or something. “How’s it goin’ in here?’

Carmen pipes up, eyes focused on the dish as Syd plates it. “Good.” Syd holds the plate in one hand, and silently corrals you with the other to sit at the table. You do. She sets it down the plate before you, handing you a fork and knife.

You look up at her expectantly. She shakes her head. “Eat first, this time.”

She looks serious, so you nod, cutting into the dish. It’s different from the last one. Instead of oxtail, it’s pastry. Or at least, a puff pastry exterior. You’re pretty sure it’s Pillsbury, you remember Carmen buying that, the other day, on your excursion.

Inside it, you believe is the beef oxtail, there’s other things, too. Some sort of sauce, some greens— Oh well, no time to bask in the cross section because Syd looks like she’s about to explode. You take a bite. You nod, chewing.

Syd starts, “Searing the duck caused the bitter taste— So instead of- Of searing the outside, I coated it in the mushroom sauce, the greens— Not pureed, this time, for texture. Your basil, too. There’s a crumble of feta, for a subtle tang. And then wrapped it all together in puff pastry, and baked. It’s sort of like, a varied take on a beef welling—”

“You made a fucking gourmet hot pocket?” You swallow, wheezing. The second you say this, Sydney’s focused face beams, laughing, like she’s just pulled off the most perfect prank of all time.

Carmen was so intrigued and focused on Sydney’s explanation, that you watering it down to hot pocket and being right makes his entire system reboot. He cannot stop smiling, aghast. He's been helping Syd make a hot pocket for the past hour?

“I told you to make what you want and—” wheeze “—you make a fucking hot pocket?!” You double down, laughing with her, she’s trying to defend herself but she can’t stop wheezing in tandem.

“I— I can’t fuckin’ stand you!” You snort, covering your face with your arm. “I hate your ass, oh my God, Syd.”

“Did—” snort “What did you think?” She recovers, slowly but surely.

You shake your head, handing her the fork. “It’s sick, Syd, obviously, it’s fucking perfect… Chef.” You tack on at the end, almost forgetting. “I’m not gonna be able to have an actual hot pocket, ever again. You’ve ruined my life.”

She takes a bite for herself, nodding. She does a small cheer, pumping her fist. “Let’s fucking go.” She points her fork at you— Purely on muscle memory, and you both instantly remember the days of her testing out recipes and you pairing them on first taste. She’d point her fork to you like a microphone. It was a fun game between two nerds.

It’s a reflex response for you, even now. “Barolo. Savory, dry, red. A young one, though. Light body. Could also do an Amarone, if you’re not buried in money.”

She hands the fork off to Carmy to try it, then writes the pairings down, mumbling, amusement still in her voice. “How the fuck do you do that?”

“I honestly don’t know. I think I have some wires crossed.”

“Fire, Chef.” Carmen swallows his bite. “We cannot call it a hot pocket on the menu.”

“Then what’s the point!?”

Leaving Carmen’s place is objectively the most awkward experience— But also the funniest. You offer to wait for Syd and drive her home— You’ll need a second to pack anyways while they make their business plans.

When you do offer, of course, Carmen stutters short, almost asking you again to sleep over or at the very least stay late, but saves it, realizing himself.

Syd accepts the ride offer. You pack up and wait for her to be done. When she is, Carmen offers to carry your things down with you both, in which Syd accuses him of thinking you’re both weaklings— He does not have a defense case for this, he has to let you go. You can tell he wants to kiss you at the door, and you do too. Sadly, you’re equally down bad, but he can’t know that…

You say your goodbyes, Syd helps you load your tools and hotplate in the trunk of your car. Your phone vibrates. Text from Mister New York.

‘Look up I’m on the balcony. 8 floors.’

You look up, sure as shit, he’s out there, cigarette in mouth. Unlit. He waves, you wave back. He texts again, in rapid succession.

‘Thank you’

‘For helping Syd’

‘And the oven and the hot plate and the bookshelf (not necessary)’

‘nbd + I think it’s v necessary’ Does Carmen understand acronyms? You’re risking it, here.

‘and cleaning my trash’ Sonofabitch.

‘ah fuck. I don’t think you’re messy!!! I just wanted to help!!!’

‘I know. You’re you. Be safe.’

Oh goddammit, stupid dry texter, saying something so gah. You jump as Syd taps the roof of your car behind you, getting your attention. Watching from a far distance, Carmen laughs, though you don’t notice it.

“Are we going?”

“Yes! Sorry!” You hurriedly pocket your phone, waving one last time as you get in your car. Syd sits beside you in shotgun, her pot of basil sat safely in her lap. You drive off.

You’re half way down the road, when Syd pipes up again. “So y’all are fucking, correct?”

You almost brake check the guy behind you.

 “How do you fuckin’ do that!?”

the opening is dedicated to my dear friend and i who have sent our wordle results to each other everyday for the past like year and a half.

Things of note, one - people usually skip the shit up top-- I made a spotify playlist! Listen if you like, I'm not your dad.

Two, I know this is a self insert right, i know what I set myself up for-- Do you know the hell i am in as a syd x carmy girl writing scenes with both of them and it NOT being them? What have I done, to myself? The only coping mechanism I have is imagining in this universe Syd is a lesbian. And that is helping.

The hot pocket recipe-- Who fucking knows, if that would taste good? I think it would? In theory? I fucked with a dish from Daniel NYC, to make it into a bit. Would it work? ....Beef wellingtons do, I can't see why this can't???? Idk man.

Rosemary water w cloves and ginger does fucking work btw. I am part of the so stressed out i lost my hair brigade. Also basil does grow like a motherfucker.

We're seein' a little bit of that tenseness that comes with being in an 'almost relationship' both of them feel like they've got something they can fuck up now. Poor birds. They'll be okay. Probably.

I'm really excited for the next chapter, I don't wanna give shit away, but it's gonna be,,,,,, different. I haven't seen anyone try this kinda formatting on tumblr before, and I'm excited to see what you think. Between my moving and how complex the choreography of it is gonna be, it's gonna be a much longer minute between this chapter and the next, I fear. But listen, you already knew your ass was gettin' spoiled with a chapter every two days. Hehe.

As always, please come yap to me in the replies/inbox/dms/reblogs. I love to hear thoughts!! It sustains me, baby!!

Next Part

[silken-moonlight]

okay, here me out :

a seductive vampire women, who likes to get men to “hook up” at her place, pretend she’s gonna give a blowjob but actually bite and feed off of his dick (bonus points if she kills them from blood loss, maybe collecting some for later)

do either of you this what you will (though, idea would be she meets a female reader who she actually falls in love with and tries to get in a real relationship with)

I love this. My mind is wild about this. Lets get into it:

Female Vampire Seductress x female human reader

Warning: Mention of violence, sexual assault and murder. Abusive language

Don't like, don't read. Mdni as usual.

Lethia was a huntress. She loved the chase, the rip, and the thrill of a kill. It was in her nature, in her genes, since she was a vampire. Turned around 110 years ago, in her mid-twenties, she had always been the life of every party she attended. She was popular in vampire circles and clubs, with friends all over the world and constantly changing partners of any species. Lovers for a night, strangers in the morn.

Lethia had a special way to feed and hunt...Walking into clubs, catching the attention of a man who had ill intentions for her. Sometimes they put something in her drink, sometimes they made her drunk and carried her out of the club. Since humans were unaware of the existence of vampires, it was easy. Like this, Lethia got to kill someone who was human scum and saved some other girls by doing that. Sometimes she chased them when she bared her teeth, sometimes she just attacked them and drained the men, sometimes she felt mean and bit their dick off, spitting it infront of them and letting them bleed out when she didn't feel like drinking their blood. All of them begged to be merciful, yet none of them were merciful when the situation had been switched.

She has made a Sport out of it, using the Internet and nasty Forums to find the worst men in her city. Currently she was hunting a man named Dave Cornwell. The self proclaimed 'Bitch Rider'. Filming and assaulting the girls, then sharing it with his followers. Tonight, he would be her victim. A grin adorned her face as she found him in the dark club. Currently he was trying to flirt with a girl who looked absolutly uncomfortable to be here and talked to. She slumped over, falling into his arms.

"Sorry..." she slurred, walking quickly away. The man, Dave, followed her. "Hey, babydoll, do you want a free cocktail?" Lethia turned with a big grin. "Yes! Something sweet like me, please." He laughed and slung an arm around her, bringing her to the bar. The bartender mixed them two cocktails. Lethia tried not to scrunch her nose at the disgusting smell of sweat and alcohol coming off him. "Such a pretty thing, are you all alone?" He asked her, his gaze dark and lustful. "Yep, friends left me." Lethia lied, takimg the drink. There was already a drug in it, the barkeeper was in on it. Such things didn't work on Vampires. So she drank it in one go and they went to dance.

After a moment she pretended to become drugged and he carried her out. He carried her into a dark alley and thre her onto the ground:"Such a bitch. Getting caught by the bitch rider." He said and grabber her hair with one hand, unbuckling his belt with the other. Lethia was about to attack him, but a voice disturbed them.

"Hey asshole!" You screamed, walking over, looking so scared vut putting a brave face on. "Take you hands off her! Now!" You yelled, you hands on something little and pink. Lethia saw that it was a taser.

"Two bitches tonight? I am blessed." The man said letting go of Lethia to grab you. But as soon as he was close to you, you tased him. The seemingly little taser was so strong that he fell to the ground. You tased him again so that he stayed down. You heart was running so fast, Lethi could here it from the distance.

"Are you okay?" you asked, looking Lethia up and down. Lethia decided to continue playing along, liking your attention. "No..." she said, looking up at you with her dark doe eyes. "Let's get you somewhere safe," you said and helped her stand up. Lethia clung to you, leaning her head onto your shoulder. "My savior..." she crooned as you walked with her to a car. You looked worried instead of flattered. "This is my car. We're going to sit inside, okay?" you said and put her in the passenger seat before getting in as well and locking the car.

"Can I call someone for you?" you asked while turning on the heat since her skin had been much too cold for you. "No, I'm all alone," she answered, looking at you from the side. "Okay... Then how about I drive you home?" you asked her, still trembling from the scene you had witnessed and the adrenaline from stepping in. You were so afraid your taser wouldn't work. "I would like that. I live on Forwell Street, number 23." You started the car and began to drive. "How do you feel?" you asked her softly, concerned for her. "Better... I think I'm sobering up. I'm Lethia..." she said hesitantly. It wasn't often a girl or somebody had stepped in. It was surely the first time someone was tasered in front of her eyes.

"I'm Y/N." She heard you say as she admired you from the side. You looked over at her and gave her a gentle smile. Her beautiful, curly brown hair was a mess, and the little black dress she wore left little to the imagination. "Do you want something to put over yourself? You must be freezing," you asked. Lethia nodded, hoping you would give her a hoodie of yours. You smelled so good to her; she loved your perfume. "Grab behind you. I have a hoodie there." She did that, grabbing the desired hoodie from the back row and putting it on. It smelled like you and looked so wonderful on her. Little butterflies fluttered around in her chest. You were so cute and caring.

You arrived at her home, helping her out of the car. "Can you come with me...please?" She asked and you nodded. You walked her to her apartment in the second floor. She unlocked the door, a very modern and tasteful. "Home sweet home..." She said and you giys walked inside. She slumped on the couch and you sat next to her. She leaned against you, saying softly:"I know its strange but...can you stay the night? I don't want to be alone..." She asked. You were suprised but nodded.

"Yeah no problem, I understand that you don't want to be alone." She smiled an hugged you:"Thank you for saving me..." Lethia whispered, pretending to be all sleepy. "You're tired." She nodded and leaned more against you. "YLets get you make up off the." You said and you guys ealked into the big bathroom. There was so much make up and skincare everywhere. You quickly found some make up remover and washed away her make up, she loved it. The attention was so good, so pure and honest. You cared for her hair, detangling it with a curl comb and putting oil and curl cream in it before braiding it into a loose braid. After that you took of your make up as well.

Lethia rook you into her bedroom, changing infront of you. She wanted your attention and for you to look at her body. You averted your gaze, giving her privacy. Her undead heart beat fast....you were amazing.

It only took a few more moments, she comvinced you to sleep in her bed with her, to realise she wanted to keep you. Now, that she was cuddled up so close to you and safe.

You were safe, you were good - and now she would make your hers.

[aclockmaker]

Part 2 now here

Okay to expand on this I just think: Steve who’s been in a couple of tv shows and is having a moment, famous offscreen for his hair and his charm and onscreen for his ability to find chemistry with anyone (and also, again, his hair).

And Eddie who is a complete unknown; he’s been in some stage productions and had the tiniest bit parts on TV but nobody’s ever, like, recognized him on the street.

Eddie auditions for a new HBO show. When his agent tells him that Steve Harrington is already attached Eddie is like cool, I’ll never get this part but the audition will be good practice so why not. They’re never gonna cast him. He’s sure he’s playing it too weird, and he hasn’t cut his hair (but he will when a part needs him to) but then he gets a callback. Twice.

And then he’s getting called in to do a chemistry test with some of the other actors. The show is like a modern Freaks and Geeks but with a slow burn murder mystery, and Eddie’s actually dead in the main timeline but about half the show is told in flashbacks so it’s a big part. When he meets Steve he doesn’t know what he’s expecting from the paparazzi darling but the guy is super genuine, makes Eddie feel way more comfortable than he has so far. They do their read together and Eddie is just thinking to himself like… damn, this guy really is good, because that felt crazy. He’s acted opposite some insanely talented people but it’s never been that easy. That must just be what it’s like working with Steve.

And now it’s dangerous because he really wants the part. He wants to stop bartending to make rent. He wants to be on this show, because the pages he’s seen are good, and he thinks he could really bring something to it. And because he wants to work with Steve. And even the rest of the cast, too, but—

The day Eddie gets the part he gets a text from a number he doesn't know. Hey man, really looking forward to working with you. And then, a few minutes later, It's Steve btw. He's smiling down at his phone so much that his agent, whose office he's in, is like "What, did you just score another life-changing opportunity I don't know about?" And Eddie is like "Nope, just the one, uh—it's just my uncle saying congrats. Anyway—"

They don't make him cut his hair. They don't tell him to stop playing it so weird. Everything goes so well that it feels fucking hard to believe, in fact, like he's just waiting for the other shoe to drop. There's one group of them playing seniors in high school, the main foursome of which is Eddie, Steve, and their two girl costars, Nancy and Robin. And then there's a younger group playing freshmen whose story intersects with theirs.

His and Steve's characters are set up as opposites, almost rivals, and at least at first, you're presumably supposed to wonder if it's Steve's rich, popular guy who's killed Eddie's character. Nobody in the cast knows the truth yet; the scripts get revealed to them as they're shooting them and they've been told the murderer won't even be revealed in the first season (so here's hoping they get renewed, because Eddie would really like to know who killed him—and he'd also like to keep making HBO money).

Their scenes are some of Eddie's favorites to film (although he also has a soft spot for the kids—especially Dustin who plays a hilarious and awesome nerd who does D&D with Eddie's DM). Eddie hopes his and Steve's stuff is working on whatever level they ultimately need it to work on—sometimes they do get notes that tell them to pull back or dig into something, to emphasize something else, so he has to trust that they're doing the right things.

They often film out of order so when they eventually film the scene where Eddie and Steve's characters have their first run-in at school, it's far from the first time they've shot together. They get all up in each other's faces in the scene, and they've run the lines, done a table read, but acting it out at full intensity is. A lot. Steve's character is mad because he thinks Eddie's character is trying to steal his girlfriend (really she was just buying drugs from him). The way Steve plays it is all simmering intensity, the threat of violence just under the surface, and this is where Eddie doesn't know if he's reading something into it that isn't there. Because for him, there's also another kind of tension between them. And he doesn't know if it's his real life bleeding into the character; if it's just how Steve can't help being with everyone; or if it's a legitimate part of the scripts that they're supposed to be picking up on and exploring. He doesn't even know if anybody else sees what he does. But they do their takes; nobody tells him he's doing something wrong. And after the director calls cut the first time, Steve winks at him. Just to cut the tension, Eddie thinks, maybe to make him smile, which it does. It's fun watching Steve work, watching him slip into and out of character. He's really easy to work with.

Sometimes they get together to run lines or talk motivation or whatever. “It's crazy, you know," Eddie tells Steve in his trailer one night. Steve's is bigger so all of them usually hang out here. They've been making each other laugh, shooting the shit about increasingly funny backstories for their characters, and Eddie feels high with it. "I mean, you know this is my first real show. It's like—" he gestures between them, trying to encompass everything that happens on-camera and all the fun of working on that off-camera. "I didn't know it would be like this."

"Oh—yeah, man," Steve says and laughs a little self-deprecatingly, running a hand through his hair. "But, I mean, for me, I've done a couple and, with our stuff—it’s never been like this with anyone else, either.”

It's going to be so hard, Eddie thinks, looking back at him, to not read into that more than he should.