#but that doesn't explain the stuff when i'm on call with someone
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
YOU ARE MARRIED??!!
-Wayne Manor, Gotham-
Cass is not having a good time. From the Arkham breakout last week all the way to losing a bet with his siblings on who is going to attend the gala with Bruce. And now this annoying lady kept asking her about her preference in men or something. And Bruce can't help her since he is being occupied by those rich assholes about investment or stuff.
Vicky: So, Miss Wayne. Is it true that you have a secret boyfriend?
Cass: No.
Vicky: Then how about that pict-
Cass: I'm already married.
Vicky blue screened as Cass finished her sentence. Cass takes the chance and slips away from her before she starts barraging her with questions. Revealing that she is married may not be the smartest thing she has done but she is very annoyed at people who keep asking her about her secret significant other. If they want to ask, at least use the proper term.
Just as Cass reaches the hallway, she is scooped up by two strong arms and is carried away to the Batcave. Cass looks to her side to see Dick and Jason both holding one of her arms each and looking very pissed. Well, Dick looks very pissed. Jason looks like he is having fun. Cass doesn't struggle and just lets her brothers carry her to the Batcave to have the talk.
They put Cass on the couch and proceed to guard the exit of the cave on the off chance that she decides to escape. Not that she would because she and her husband have been thinking of breaking the news to their respective family for awhile now.
She waited for a few hours while playing on her phone. Her main phone. Not the one she used to contact her husband since this family has a lot of competent hackers. She knows that being married is like a big deal. But she doesn't expect it to be such a big deal.
When she says everyone is here, she means everyone. From all his close family all the way to Selina (Bruce's fiancee), Roy (Jason's boyfriend), Kori (Dick's wife), Kon (Tim's boyfriend), Jon (Damian's bff) and even Harley and Ivy is here. She is also pretty sure that Clark is listening from somewhere but it's not like she is trying to keep it a secret anymore, so the more people there are the less she needs to explain.
Harper: So what are we here again? I would rather be home to polish my new gun than in this cave.
Dick: Since everyone is here, I would like to apologize for calling all of you in such short notice.
A murmur ranging from 'it's fine' all the way to 'I want to sleep' sounded in the room.
Dick: Anyway, let's get to the main topic shall we. For starters, I would like to say that none of us wishes to control who you dated nor who you choose to be your partner.
Some more murmurs sounded in the room.
Dick: HOWEVER! We would really appreciate it if you wish to marry someone, at least notify one of us since being married is a big deal.
More murmurs sounded as all of them have a rough idea on what the topic going to be.
Dick: So, the person in question, would you like to explain yourself?
A spotlight lights up on top of Cass, directing all the people's attention to her. She doesn't even know there is a spotlight installed in the cave.Cass stands up and looks at the crowd. She replies, "No."
Everyone is stunned by her reply. They expect many types of replies but no is certainly not one of them.
Tim: Fuck you mean no?
Alfred: I would prefer this conversation to remain civil and proper please master Timothy. I would also like to express my extreme displeasure at the fact that I am not notified by your marriage Mistress Cassandra.
Cass goes still at Alfred's sentence. Okay, shit is really serious. As much as she loves messing with them, she would rather not have her food burnt on the inside. (No one knows how Alfred manages to do that.)
Cass: Ehem, I'm just messing with you. It is a long story but to make it short, my husband and I met when we were in Hong Kong. We met after he got roped in one of the gangs that I was busting. After we met and a little misunderstanding, he helped me to dismantle the underground drug labs across Hong Kong.
Tim: So he is also a vigilante?
Cass: Ex-vigilante. He has a daughter now so he is taking care of her.
Dick: You get pregnant?!! How? When?
Cass: I did not get pregnant. But she is technically my daughter.
Jason: Like how Lian is with me?
Cass: No. Biological daughter.
Kon: Umm, guys. I think Bruce needs to rest a little. His heart has been beating a little too fast for even him.
Dick and and Tim are closest to Bruce realizing that Bruce's face has been impossibly pale for quite a while now. They take him to an empty couch and let him lay there and rest for a while. Everyone's reactions range from amused to straight up concerned that Bruce's career as Batman might get cut short today.
It takes a while but as soon as Bruce is fine, they continue another round of questions and answers.
Bruce: How long have you been married?
Cass: Next week is our 3rd anniversary.
Duke: Wait. Didn't you plan to go to Hong Kong for some time next week? You even ask me to cover your patrol because you say you need to go somewhere.
Cass: I don't lie. I missed last year's anniversary since there was an Arkham breakout at the time.
Duke: Dude, still not cool. You are going on a date with your husband while I need to spend hours running on top of buildings around Gotham. So not fair.
Jason: Was the present you asked me to send last year also was for your husband?
Cass: Yes.
Jason: I've been your middle man all this time and I don't even know.
Barbara: I found it! This is the registration for marriage between Cassie Cain and Daniel Fenton. You used a fake name?
Cass: Yes. You will know otherwise.
Bruce: Why do you hide it?
Cass: I'm not sure all of you are gonna like him and vice versa.
Dick: Is he a bad person? I will kill him if he treats you badly.
Cass: No. He doesn't trust all of you at first.
Steph: And why is that?
Cass: He thinks the Justice League is working with the government. So by extension, all of you are associates of government to him.
Steph: Why is he running away from the government? Is he a criminal?
Barbara: No. He doesn't have any criminal records in his name. Except for the fact that he is practically nonexistent before he is 18, there is nothing wrong with him.
Tim: Is it a forged identity then?
Cass: No. The government wiped away his records.
Dick: What? Why?
Cass: I don't know.
Damian: I expect you to at least do a background check on someone before marrying them, Cain.
Dick: Did you get married with someone you barely know? Do you understand how dangerous that is? What if he just dipped you after you got married?
Cass: *Rolls her eyes* He isn't a bad person. I make sure of that at least. I know he is some sort of meta tho-
A green portal suddenly appears out of thin air making everyone be on guard except Cass. She expects Danny to come out of the portal to greet her but what comes out baffled her.
A young girl that looks a little like Cass riding on a big wolf comes out of the portal swiftly towards Cass. Everyone is just about to shoot their weapons when the girl's word shock them.
???:Mama!
Everyone: Mama?!!
#danny phantom#dp x dc crossover#dpxdc#batfam#danny x cass#dead silent#cassandra cain#cass x danny#justice league#dc x dp
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
I can't reply to the post directly but I saw a post where you were talking about trans masc erasure especially when you were in college and like....I feel it. I started college in 2003 and identified as a cis butch lesbian because I didn't know there was anything else to be, but also MOST IMPORTANTLY because my "resources" and info on trans men were basically Boys Don't Cry, which every lesbian I knew referred to as a lesbian film and Brandon Teena as a lesbian. There were also vague comments from time to time about Chaz Bono at some point, but again, everyone around me was referring to him as a "confused lesbian". What's frustrating these days is that while there is more information out there and more spaces, there still isn't enough. Like, I learned basically everything I know about my body from Gen Z friends who had better education and affirming teachers. And also finding space when you're almost 40 is an impossible task sometimes. At almost every trans masc group I've attended I've been the oldest by almost 10 or sometimes almost 15 years. It's a really lonely experience. A handful of times we've had moderators who are young and not trans masc and they've talked over me and tried to "correct" the language I use to talk about my experiences - for example, I call myself FTM, and I also say things like "when I was presenting as a woman" or "when I thought I was a lesbian". I use this language intentionally because there were over 30 years of my life where I had no idea of the possibility that I could be anything but a woman and that IS how I identified, and there are over 30 years of experience with that identity that I am still recovering from and that shaped the course of my life in a way that's difficult or impossible to explain without acknowledging it. Part of our erasure unfortunately comes within the community and people not listening to the experiences of others whose journey doesn't line up with the plot beats of a cinematic, linear coming out story (not to knock that if someone has it! But leave room for those of us who don't!). Even though I'm on T and have had top surgery, there's still so much I've had to figure out myself and it's a lonely life. I don't know how to date or make connections (or even if I should! I'm aromantic which I think complicates things sometimes). Anyway I don't know if any of this is relevant but like. I just wanted to say I relate to the erasure stuff. Wouldn't change who I am for anything, but I would change the world in which I had to figure it out.
im really sorry you can relate to this, it affects so many people and a lot of people are proud to say they don't care. it's not okay. trans men and mascs need community irl. i'm bet things were way harder back then, i can't even imagine how hard it must've been to talk about being transmasculine in 2003.
im going to keep my reply brief because i do not want to distract from your experience
#asks#answers#transmasc#transmasculine#transmasc erasure#transmasculine erasure#examples of transandrophobia#feedback
84 notes
·
View notes
Text
i honestly think i might have some memory issues but the only time i notice it is when i'm in an argument and i forgot what the other person said or i'm trying to remember something that happened a few years ago or more
#a lot of times in the shower i forget stuff too but with that i think i was just spaced out#but for the other stuff it's like. idk#like the other day i was upset about something my boyfriend said on call and he said that he said something else and when i tried to say#that no he said this i couldn't think of what he actually said#and when i try to remember anything from middle school or before it's like there are these huge gaps in my memory#specifically i was friends with this guy and before we became friends again i had stopped being friends with him for some reason but i#can't remember why at all#also when i try to think about what happened more recently in high school i can't remember a lot of it#idk is this normal???#is it just age?#is it blocking out bad memories?#but that doesn't explain the stuff when i'm on call with someone#idk. it's just. ugh
1 note
·
View note
Text
My ass is NOT used to genuine words despite how much/how many times I receive them
#[ ★ nervo yaps ]#like okok I might tag this as venting#but like yes I get stuff like “I'm here for you” from my family and stuff#but it just feels so different and sm more meaningful for me to hear it from my friends#but even then it's like EXTREMELY complex and hard to explain#like it means the fucking world to me when a friend offhandedly affirms me#or like they indulge in my stupid rambles#with my family it just feels like the “love your family unconditionally” kind of thing if that makes sense#it takes out the genuine part for me for some reason idk#and my mom and sister call me Ajax or masculine terms as a way to get my attention or like fun at me and it doesn't even happen often#and my dad just straight up pokes fun at me#no jokes to be made#like again they rarely even acknowledge my identity as a trans man#they occasionally acknowledge me being bi#but rlly only my mom does#my dad just nods along kinda#like he agrees but he seems indifferent to the point where he just does not care#and not in a good way#It's also when a friend says “you deserve it” (looking at devil rn) I get all giddy#that's smth I don't hear often at ALL#and it's abt smth I hold dear?#like fr???#Idk. someone put me to bed I cannot be having these thoughts at almost 4 am
13 notes
·
View notes
Text
.
#not to be dramatic but i'm going insane over here#i'm stuck training someone that doesn't write anything down and she is testing my patience#i'm a firm believer in leting people make their own mistakes so they know how to fix them#but everything she does is a mistake and i'm too busy to sit down and walk her through everything when ive explained it five times before#I don't mind sitting down with people or repeating myself but for the love of god at least write this shit down because it's a lot#its been a month and i'm fully convinced she lied on her resume and during her job interview to our boss because she doesn't know anything#any time i do try and sit down and walk her through the mistakes she starts calling herself stupid and it's exhausting reassuring her#because no you're not stupid i know this is a job with a very steep learning curve trust me i was banging my head against the wall too#but I WROTE SHIT DOWN#and all she does is complain about how things are done and i'm like 'yeah I agree with you but we have no choice cus this is how it works'#like this is stuff that has to be done asap so it's faster and easier to just do it myself#i'll give her the stuff that's due months out instead so she can take her time with it and get familiar#but she insists on diving into the immediate stuff and I'm trying to politely tell her its fine i'll take care of it#because honestly having to fix her mistakes on the immediate stuff is a massive waste of my time#plus i'm still in a really bad mood because the power has been out at my place for nearly a week now and I haven't had a hot shower
0 notes
Text
SUMMARY: One phone call was all it took to change the course of your sex life.
Word Count: 5k+
"You're not understanding me right. I never said the sex wasn't good."
"You essentially did," Your friend counters. "He doesn't make you cum," Her voice a little too loud to be on speaker but fortunately you were in the comfort of your own home by yourself. Harry was supposed to be at the gym.
Harry was not at the gym.
Harry was at your bedroom door listening to your conversation. He had just made it back when a very interesting conversation involving his name made his ears perk up.
"Harry is the best sexual partner I've ever had. He's so good- it's a me thing. I've never been able to... finish with someone before," You explain because you don't want anyone to think Harry was bad in bed. He's far from that. He just doesn't make you cum.
"Isn't that the whole idea of sex though? To fucking finish?" Your friend tells you.
"I've just come to terms with the fact that some of the things I like in the bedroom... are not going to be explored."
"What do you mean?" Your friend asks.
"You know, just like... rougher things- kinkier things," you say bashfully.
"Like what?!" Your friend pushes.
"I don't know. Some choking, manhandling, assertiveness- that type of thing. I would really enjoy some casual dominance anytime really."
"Oh, wow," Your friend says.
"I know. I'm a fucking freak," You sigh and drop your head to rest on your bed in agony.
"No! I didn't say that! Hey, I like that type of stuff too. Why don't you just talk to Harry-"
Harry was livid. His heart was beating faster now than any time during his workout. He was so angry with himself that he hasn't made you trust him enough to tell him how you feel. How he hasn't been able to satisfy you. He'd made you think you were a freak.
"No- look. I don't fucking care if I finish or not. The sex is so good, and I just like having him that close to me. He's not very big on... being touchy any time else, which is totally okay, but I don't want to take the time I do have him so close to me for granted."
There was a sudden dip in the bed and a body weight being pressed against you as you laid flat on your stomach. You almost screamed until you felt a hand reach around and wrap around your throat and turn your head.
Harry was behind you, on the back of your thighs, looking down at you with a look you've never seen from him- from anyone.
Your friend droned on, never noticing your silence. Harry grabbed your phone with his other hand still wrapped around your neck and took the phone off speaker, putting it up to his ear.
"Hey, this is Harry. We're a bit busy at the moment- actually we're going to be busy for quite a long moment, so don't call anytime soon." With that he hung up and threw your phone on the bedside table. "So," Harry begins after a quiet minute. "Anything you want to tell me?" He asks. He flips you around so you're lying on your back with him straddling your front, completely at his mercy. You don't know whether to cry or squeeze your thighs together.
"Harry, I am so sorry that you had to hear that. I don't want you to think that-" You're momentarily stopped when both of his hands cup your throat, thumbs under your jaw so he can control your face. He angles your head up, so you finally look into his eyes.
"Look at me when you're speaking to me," He commands. You swear your pussy purrs. You can't help but squeeze your thighs together. You have never seen Harry like this.
"S-Sorry- I'm sorry. I don't- I don't know what to say," You finally get out.
"Tell me what I did to make you be afraid to trust me."
"No! Harry, that is not true at all!" You say angrily. He grips your throat a little tighter, and his eyes become a little sterner.
"Don't raise your voice at me." You audibly swallow. "Were you afraid I would be mad- hurt you?" He asks. One hand leaves your jaw to comb through your hair.
"No, Harry- I know you would never. I just- You're not really into... touching me all that much when we're not having sex, so I didn't want the only time when you want to touch me to be gone." You realized you had misworded your sentence as soon as you finished.
"You think I don't want to touch you?" He asks, and you can't tell if the anger in his voice is pointed at you or himself.
"No- I just-" You're abruptly paused when you feel the hand that was in your hair venture down between your thighs. You were only wearing panties and a big t-shirt, so Harry finds your clit very easily. You moan in surprise in grind against his hand.
"Trust me, I want to fucking touch you," he says. "I thought you were the one who didn't like all the touching," he explains.
"What- why?" You ask breathlessly, your body keening at his touch and the bit of weight he was resting on you.
"Every time I would, you would almost jump or just kind of tense up, so I didn't want to make you uncomfortable," he says and lets a finger tease at your entrance.
"N-no, you just- you make me so nervous," you gasp when he slides a finger into you.
"Why?" he demands.
"It's embarrassing," you whine and turn away from him, but he grips your jaw and makes you look at him.
"Why?" he demands again, and the look in his eyes tells you that you need to answer.
"You're so- I just find you really attractive. Anything you do turns me on, and I just get really nervous," you say bashfully. He adds another finger and curls them to find your spot. Your mouth drops in pleasure.
"You are aware that we are dating, correct?" he asks.
"Shut the fuck up," you whine and try to grind down on his hand. He gives you a pointed look.
"Be sweet to me. Don't talk to me like that," he says and very lightly slaps your face. It causes your jaw to drop and a moan to spill from your mouth. "You like that?" He asks and bends his face down to bite and kiss at your neck while continuing his movements on your cunt.
"Harry," you moan and scratch at his back. He groans into your neck and pulls his fingers from your underwear. He waits for you to stick your tongue out and take his fingers inside your mouth.
"Good," he praises and pulls his fingers from your mouth. He cups your throat with both of his hands and brushes his lips against yours. You tilt your head up and try to catch his mouth. "I want to give you everything you want," he tells you and gives you a passionate kiss.
"You do, baby," you assure him and kiss him again while wrapping your arms around his neck and run your fingers through his hair. He grabs your wrists, resting most of his body weight on you, and brings them to his lips.
"Tell me what you want from me," he demands while kissing your fingers.
"Harry," you sigh.
"No, tell me what you need from me. Don't think I don't want to do this. I am more than willing," he says with a sly smirk. You roll your eyes, and you both laugh. He becomes serious again. "Tell me what will make you cum."
"H, I don't know," you say honestly. "I've just never been able to with anyone."
"Okay," he says. "What do you do when you're by yourself?"
"What do you mean?" You question.
"How do you get yourself off," he expands.
"Oh! Um..." you blush.
"Listen," he begins and shifts positions so that he is sitting up on the bed with you in front of him. He holds your hands in his and plays with your fingers. "You have to trust me if you want this. I'm never going to push you, but I just want you to be comfortable with me," he explains. Your heart twists.
"I am comfortable with you, Harry!" you correct him. "It's just- everything is so intense with you in the best way possible." His eyebrow quirks.
"Explain."
"Like- I just feel everything so intensely with you. I don't mean to boost your ego any higher than it already is-"
"Hey!" He complains, and you both laugh.
"But you're just really fucking hot, and it's hard to be normal around you when you do your sexy stuff," you explain.
"My sexy stuff?" He laughs.
"Yeah, like your deep voice and- and your hands," his hands reach out to cusp the back of your neck.
"Yeah? What else, mama?" He asks and places a feather-light kiss to your cheek.
"Um- well, like this. I- I feel like any time you touch me, I go braindead," you explain. He works his lips up to yours and slips his tongue into your mouth, craning your head back, so he can kiss you deeply. He groans into your mouth when you suck on his tongue out of animalistic need. "I need you," you whine.
"Tell me what you want. Do you want to just keep kissing for a bit? I can eat your sweet cunt or just finger you," he suggests and paws at your breasts.
"Can we- uh-"
"What, sweetheart? Tell me."
"Can we just... dry-hump and make out some?" You ask, your face turning a dark red out of embarrassment of the vulgar language.
"Of course, honey. Come here," he says and scoots to the end of the bed so that he's leaned against the headboard. He grabs your waist and pulls you on top of him, straddling his lap. "Can I take your shirt off?" He asks.
"Of course, Harry. You don't have to be so gentle with me." He gives your face a light smack again.
"Lose the attitude," he commands, and you try to squeeze your thighs together, but you end up just grinding against his bulge making both of you moan. He kisses up your throat while his hands toy with the bottom of your shirt. "You're turned on, yeah?" He asks.
"I'm so horny, H," you whine and grasp onto his shoulders to grind against him better.
"Good," he sighs and tugs your shirt off, eyes widening at your bare tits that he's seen many times. "Fuck," he whispers. He spends a bit of time sucking and kissing at your breasts while you cradle his head to your chest.
"H, I wanna kiss you," you whine, and he finally lets up on your tits. His hand cradles your throat in a firm but comfortable grip, allowing him to move your head in any way he wants to. The tension is high when his lips finally meet yours. His free hand slides down to your ass while yours are roaming underneath his shirt.
"You can take it off," he says against your lips, and you both only pull back from each other to get his shirt off. His lips are back on yours, and his hands slide to your hips, helping you grind against him.
"Can you take your pants off too?" You ask timidly.
"'Course, baby," he says and taps your hips so you will move off him while he takes off his sweatpants. He places you back on his lap once he's just in his briefs. He's hard as a rock, and you can tell he's trying his best not to lose control. You kiss his lips softly, and he moans in surprise.
"I love you," you tell him. "And I trust you."
He smiles. "Thank you, sweet girl. I love you more." His hands move back to your hips and grinds your crotch against his while he slips his tongue into your mouth. Your tongues clash, and you both moan as his bulge presses perfectly against your core. You both breathe heavily against each other's mouths as you grind against him. "Do you feel good?" He asks, and you moan against his lips while nodding.
"So good," you tell him and claw at his chest. "Can we take off our underwear?"
"Don't have to ask, baby. Just tell me what you want, and I'll do it," he assures you. You smile and crawl off his lap to slide your underwear off, and he follows quickly. As soon as he gets back on the bed, you sit back down on his lap and place him perfectly against your pussy. "Ah, fuck," he moans, and his hips flex up. A bead of precum falls from his tip, and you smile.
"I want your cock in me," you whine and grab his fat dick, trying to line him up with your entrance. Before you could slip the tip in, you're suddenly being thrown onto the bed, Harry hovering over you. "What the fuck, Harry?"
"Not yet," he says and begins to kiss down your body.
"But- you said I could have what I wanted," you protest.
"I need you to cum first."
"Harry, that's not important to me," you say with annoyance in your voice. You really did just want his dick inside you.
"It's important to me. Now, I need you to be comfortable with me. Trust me, baby. If I do something you don't like, tell me. If you want something, tell me. Got it?"
"Okay," you sigh. He slaps your thigh, and you yelp.
"You've got some serious fucking attitude tonight," he says.
"I just want you to fuck me- Oh!" You're cut off by Harry planting a kiss directly onto your clit. He spreads your legs and presses your knees to your chest to have full access. He presses his tongue as deep as it can go into your whole and curls it upwards. Your eyes cross as he tongue-fucks you. His eyes are closed in pleasure, and he's moaning like you're the one giving him head. He swirls his tongue inside you before moving to flicking at your clit. "Oh, fuck that's good, Harry," you moan and tangle your fingers into his hair.
"Give yourself to me," he moans against you.
"I feel so good, Har," you tell him, and feel a tightening in your gut that you've only ever felt when pleasuring yourself. "Harry, I feel it."
"Good fucking girl, let me make you cum," he says and doubles down his efforts on your pussy. His hands grip your thighs harshly and spreads you even further. You can't even think about where his tongue is working because of how fast he's going. His head shakes, and he moans so his mouth vibrates against you.
"I- I think I'm going to cum- don't stop," you cry and grasp his hair, holding his face hard against your pussy and grinding however you want.
"Use me," he muffles against you and just sticks his tongue out, letting you use him in any way you need. His hands reach up to tweak your nipples, and that's what throws you over the edge. You swear you black out. It's the most intense orgasm you've ever had, and you feel tears leaking from your eyes from the relief of having an orgasm from someone else. Your hands unleash Harry's hair, and your body twitches as he continues to lick at you. You close your thighs and push at his head.
"Oh my gosh," you sob and gasp for air. You cover your face with your hands as you catch your breath. You hear Harry giggle and feel him kiss his way up your body.
"Why are you covering your face?" He asks and removes your hands, resting his body weight on top of you. "Thank you, baby- for trusting me."
"Thank you for being patient with me. That was the best orgasm I've ever had," you laugh and kiss him. You both kiss for a minute before you reach down and stroke his cock, tapping it against your sensitive clit. His mouth falls agape, and his hips jut forward.
"Do you still want to have sex, or do you just want to cuddle?" He asks to be sweet, but you can see the desperation on his face.
"H, I want you to fuck me, and I want you to cum inside me," you tell him honestly, and he moans as you make his tip catch your hole. He pulls his hips back.
"I- I'm going to be honest. I'm not going to last long because I've been so fucking turned on for so long, so I'm sorry-" You cut off his rambling with a kiss.
"Harry, you are the most wonderful person and boyfriend in the world, so I don't care if you finish quick," you assure him and cup his jaw. "C'mon, Har. Put your fat cock in me. I wanna feel the stretch."
"You're so fucking hot," He moans and slips the tip in. His jaw stays dropped as he slides in further, his eyebrows furrowing together, and you can tell he's trying so hard not to cum. "Ah, fuck. Best pussy I've ever had- it's so- so fucking good," he groans and drops his head to your shoulder. His grip on your waist is bruising as he just moves your body however he wants onto his dick.
"That dick is so fucking good, H," you whine and press your heels against his ass, so he falls farther into you and rests himself against you. Your pussy is sopping wet and tight, and Harry fears he's going to cum when he hasn't even been inside of you for four minutes. He suddenly pulls out quickly when he feels his orgasm approaching. "Harry- what the hell?" You whine.
"It was too much. I'm really trying to last here, you brat," he argues and takes a moment to try and calm himself down.
"I don't care if you cum early, Harry, c'mon. Just want your dick inside me," you groan and grip his waist, trying to shove him back in you. "You told me that if I told you what you want, and you would give it to me. You're breaking your promise."
"Brat," he mutters through gritted teeth and begins to push into you again. As soon as he begins to enter you again, his hand starts to rub at your clit.
"Oh!" You moan, and your thighs tighten around him. Your hands claw at his sides as you try to kiss him through both of your moans. "I think- I think I'm going to cum again," you tell as your tummy begins to tighten again- stronger this time.
"Oh, baby, please. Please cum for me," he begs. You can feel his cock twitching in you, him on the verge of his own release. "Y/N- fuck, sweetheart. You have to cum- Baby, you gotta- I'm sorry," He babbles like crazy, and you don't understand his apology until you feel his cum start to spurt into you, and that's what tips you over the edge. You're a mess of shaking bodies, moans, and whines. "Oh, thank God- good fucking girl," he moans.
As you both begin to calm down, he relaxes himself on top of you and wraps his arms around your body.
"That was a real one, right?" He asks.
"Yes, Harry," you laugh and stroke his hair.
#harry styles fluff#harry styles smut#harrystyles#one direction#smut#harry styles fic#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles imagine#harry styles x reader
864 notes
·
View notes
Text
Gym Opening.
With the amazing @kylestfs
The time was 9 in the morning, Louis finished breakfast with his mother, since his father was currently on a business trip, he got up from the chair and washed his dishes, His mother looked at him with pride, she had raised a kind, cute and responsible boy.
"Okay mom, it's time for me to go to school because I don't want to be late" he approached his mom and gave his a kiss on the cheek while grabbing his backpack.
"Have a nice day, son!" His mother shouted as Louis left the house and headed to school, once he entered his friends greeted him and began to talk about movies and video games, until the bell rang, so everyone went to their classrooms.
The hours passed, Louis had lunch at school with his classmates, took some more classes and so the day went by and now the clock read 3 pm, Indicating that it was time to leave, the bells rang and so everyone began to gather their things and began to go home
"Hey Louis" his friend said as he ran up behind him and gave him a small pat on the back.
"What's up, John? Do you have something to tell me? I need to get home and start doing the homework the teacher's gave us."
"No, nothing, I just wanted to ask you if you would like us to go together" John commented.
"Is that it? No problem, I can go alone, you don't need to accompany me, I'm not a little kid." Louis started laughing
"Well, if you want it that way, no problem, see you tomorrow, take care!" John commented as he left school and headed home.
Louis closed his locker, put his backpack on his back and started walking towards his house, he left school and headed towards his house, as he was walking he passed near a new gym.
"Wow, another gym, we don't need more of those, we need more comic book stores" Louis muttered to himself And before he could take another step, someone behind him covered his eyes and pulled him into the gym.
Once Louis was inside, he felt himself being sat in a chair, his hands tied, and he could clearly hear the gym door being locked.
"Help! Who are you and what do you want from me?"
The guy who had blindfolded him removed the blindfold so that Louis could see who had "kidnapped" him.
When the blindfold was removed, he saw that he was inside the gym.
The light in the gym was somewhat warm but at the same time somewhat dark, The guy felt a little scared, he wanted to ask for help but he knew that the boy in front of him could knock him down quickly, In front of him was a tall, muscular, bearded guy, he looked like one of those guys people called "jocks" and was able to confirm it, since it gave off a smell... Strange.
"He smelled like sweat..." Louis murmured.
But an acidic sweat and he also smelled like some semen, the smell of the gym was very intense and that made he head spin, When he looked around there were some exercise machines, benches, weights and all that stuff.
"To start with... You might be wondering, Who am I? Why did I kidnap you, well, I'm shake, the owner of this new gym I am 30 years old and why did I kidnap you? Well, We don't need such disappointing and nerdy people in this world, ya know?"
Louis didn't know what he meant by that, he wanted to get up from the chair to hit him but... His hands were tied and also...
The height of both was very obvious, the boy was super small next to the muscular guy, the nerd was barely 1'45 while the boy in front of him seemed to be 1'88, So even if I wanted to I couldn't knock it down.
"What do you mean the world doesn't need people like me? Explain yourself properly" Louis said in an angry tone.
"Well, you'll see," Shake said with a mocking smile, as he began to untie his hands.
The moment he untied his hands, Louis stood up and tried to run, but unfortunately Shake grabbed him by the shoulder and stopped him.
"Not so fast, nerd"
While with one arm he held Louis' shoulder, the other arm lifted him up and directed Louis towards his hairy, sweaty armpit.
"You inhale the smell, bro... Don't stop, soon you'll be a dumb, muscled guy like me... And above all, my frequent bro"
While Shake was saying that to Louis, Louis was trying to get away from him, but something told him that he wouldn't stop smelling his armpit so he kept doing it, while shake began to say words that Louis did not understand.
"you are a straight brother"
"You like girls"
"You like the smell that your big muscular body gives off"
"That makes you more masculine and manly"
As Shake said those words, Louis began to change.
His straight black hair began to turn a brownish hue as its shape changed from straight to wavy, He also began to grow in height, almost matching the size of the guy from the gym.
His face began to creak a little, as all the little baby fat began to oxidize to give him a more masculine and mature face, His pimples disappeared, his jaw became more defined while his skin also began to soften, His small lips began to enlarge and become fleshy, his nose changed, his brown eyes also changed to a brown color.
His skinny body began to burn, as he began to grow and muscles began to emerge, his clothes could not hold on any longer and tore as his shredded clothes fell to the ground revealing his new body.
He now had two big, juicy pecs, while his shoulders became broader, his torso expanded, his arms became more toned while now his triceps and biceps looked good, His back also expanded and grew giving him a back carved by the gods themselves.
His belly that was thin, now had a pack of 8 well-worked abs while on his sides he had some v-lines, As he continued to sniff Shake's armpit, his Adam's bell grew larger and stood out even more.
"That's it bro... Change and keep smelling my scent, I know you like it"
The changes were still happening, now his legs began to hurt, while his thighs grew to the size of a tree trunk, his calves also exploded, His jeans ripped as they could no longer hold the size, revealing his large, muscular legs as some brown hair emerged from them.
"You're a bro, all your friends are bro's, you're a frat guy"
"You love to leave all your candy inside the girls, you love to breed"
The moment Shake said that, Louis could feel a little excitement in his cock, he could feel it starting to grow in size and so it did, His cock began to grow and thicken, its vulnerable size of 10 centimeters stopped growing, now he had a large anaconda of 20 centimeters, erect and sore.
Now, his feet began to burn and hurt, as they grew in size, his toes lengthened while his feet gained some more flesh to make them look more masculine and worthy of a athletic man, And just like all his clothes, his shoes and socks also ripped off revealing his cute and juicy 15cm feet, The moment his feet came out of his sneakers, they began to give off an unpleasant and stinky smell, just like Shake smelled.
"You love the gym, your whole life is the gym, the girls, your brothers, the parties and the alcohol"
"You hate nerds, you make fun of them and you hit them"
After that, Shake let him go, Louis was surprised to see himself in the mirror that the gym had in front of him.
"What have you done to me!?... Wait- my voice... It sounds different, it sounds deeper"
"Of course bro, you already saw yourself in the mirror, right? A muscular and stinky bro ike us must have a deep, masculine voice, I just need the finishing touch"
Shake took a perfume out of his shorts pocket and began spraying it all over the gym.
"wait, what are you-"
The moment Louis inhaled it, his mind began to blur as his head ached, He put his hands on his head and began to growl.
"Uhh...."
His old memories were beginning to fade, he tried to hold on to them, but the scent of the perfume was too strong, new memories began to flood her mind.
He began to remember that he was always a spoiled child, he was always in the best schools and that his parents were millionaires, he remembered the countless times he had left several girls pregnant.
He began to remember that he started training at the age of 18 and now at 21 he had a body that he loved.
He remembered that he was in college and in the best fraternity, he remembered the countless parties he had had with his brothers.
His mind began to fill with girls and their big boobs, making him feel needy.
Brown hair began to grow in his armpits while a sweaty smell began to come out of them.
He started thinking about his girlfriend and her big boobs, making him came, saying goodbye to his old self.
"Bro! "You've made a mess in my gym"
"Sorry bro, but I couldn't help but cum at the thought of my girlfriend, but it shouldn't bother you, this will give a unique smell to your gym" Jake laughed as he punched him on the shoulder
"Whatever bro, here, go put these pants and boxers on, it's time to train"
Jake grabbed the gray-colored sweatpants and the boxers, headed toward the locker room. Once there he put on his pants and boxers, he saw some AirPods that he recognized as his own, He put them on while grabbing his phone that was in his locker.
"damn it, I look so goooooddd, My girlfriend is very lucky to have me"
#gay to straight#male tf#personality change#jock tf#nerd to jock#male transformation#reality change#hypnosis
730 notes
·
View notes
Text
Pairing : Dad!Bangchan x F!Reader TW : Chans daughter is not readers child ; Chans ex wife and daughter are shit starters ; drama of course ; angsty ; honestly, poor Chan ; fluffy ending though ; slightly suggestive at the end as well ; Word Count : 6.5k Request : Anonny : Please write an angsty / fluffy fic about Dad!chan who, after years of not dating, finally decides to get back into dating & when he finally finds someone he doesn't tell reader he has a teenage daughter because he doesn't know how reader would feel about it but when reader finds out they're really upset and avoid him and his daughter reaches out to reader and convinces reader to talk to Chan and make up because she hates seeing her dad upset. A/N : This request is so cute and I'm so happy I get to write it. Of course, it will be super drama because I love when it happens, and with Chans recent bbl messages we know this man loves this kind of shit, so... This is for Chan and Chan stans and we love Chan!
“I got a call from your teacher today, Ella.” Chan said as his daughter walked through the front door. “They said your grades haven’t been the best lately, that you haven’t been focusing in class. Is something wrong? Do you have something going on?” He didn’t want to be the kind of father that always got on his child when their grades were below average, but he also didn’t want his daughter to flunk out. He wanted to see her be successful and happy in life, that’s all he ever wanted.
“I’ve just been going through some stuff, dad.” Ella mumbled as she kicked her shoes into the corner near the front door and dropped her bags onto the floor. “Mom said she’s been trying to get in touch with you lately. I guess she saw that you’ve been posting about going out on your facebook.” She pulled out the chair across the table from Chan. “Why don’t I get to meet your new girlfriend?”
Chan rolled his eyes, finally looking up from his phone to look at his daughter. “You’re changing the subject. What I do in my spare time isn’t important. Your grades are. So tell me, what kind of stuff have you been going through that’s been keeping you from being able to focus. Maybe I can help.”
She huffed loudly, the attitude that he was warned would come along with a teenage daughter was in full force now. “It’s not even important anyway… Don’t you have a date to go on tonight? That’s all you ever talk about anymore. It’s like you don’t even care that mom left…” It was finally making sense to him, but it hurt that she felt that way. He had been kind enough to keep his ex wife’s dirty secrets just that, a secret, so that Ellas view of her mother wouldn’t be warped. He was trying to do the right thing, but it was becoming harder and harder.
“I do care that your mother left… I was hurt by it for a long time, El. It’s been 8 years, and I think that it’s time that I’ve finally moved on because she isn’t coming back. Your mother has gotten remarried, divorced, and married again in those 8 years and I haven’t been with anyone until just a few months ago. I don’t think you’re being very fair right now.” He tried to explain, but he could tell, he could just see it in her face that she wasn’t ready to hear about it. “And, just so you know, I don’t have a date to go on tonight. I was planning on being here to help you with your homework and studying so that I don’t get another call like I had today.”
///
“Had a late night in the studio, huh?” You said as you walked up behind Chan, your arms draping over his shoulders as he sat in front of his computer in his office. You could tell he was tired, he could barely sit up straight and his eyes wouldn’t stay open for longer than a few seconds. “It’s okay to take a break, bubs. It’s 3racha, not ChrisRacha.”
He snickered at the little name, finally swiveling his chair around to face you and pulling you down onto his lap. “You sound like everyone else. I don’t like taking breaks, it gives me too much time to think about the time that I’m wasting.” He explained, his voice was groggy and not even laced, but completely filled with exhaustion. “I’ll be fine once I go over your place tonight, we can cuddle up and watch a movie.” He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, his hot breath against your skin sending a wave of goosebumps all over.
“They’re repainting all of the apartments, I can’t even go into my own house right now. I’ve been staying with my parents.” You reminded him, although you were sure you had texted him about it and told him about it in the days leading up to the renovation. “We can go over to your place. We’ve been dating for 4 months now and you haven’t even invited me over.”
There was a reason for that, a reason that you didn’t know of, but he felt it was just better if you didn’t find out. The last thing he wanted was for you to run off because he had a daughter, not just any daughter though, a teenage daughter who was still hung up on the divorce of her parents. She wasn’t the easiest to get along with, and although Chan had tried to butter her up to the prospect of one day meeting you, she didn’t take too kindly to the fact that he was dating again. “My place is a mess…” He lied, trying to muffle his words in the fabric of your shirt so you wouldn’t pick up on it. “We can go to a hotel if you’d like.”
“That seems sleezy…” You mumbled, and he felt awful, he truly did. It felt like he was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He absolutely loves his daughter with every ounce of his heart, his entire being, he loved being her father. He loved you too though, you had been the light at the end of a very long, very dark tunnel. He didn’t want to have to choose between the two of you, it just didn’t seem fair. “I guess we’ll just wait for my apartment to be ready…” He could feel you trying to pull away, he could tell that you were upset, he didn’t want you to leave like that, so he tightened his arms around you, holding you close to him.
“You’re not sleezy! I’m sorry I even recommended that, you’re better than that.” He quickly tried to get himself out of the hole that he had dug, it felt like he was clawing his way to the top, and everytime he got halfway out, he’d slip and he’d fall right back to the bottom. “I’ll clean my place, I just want it to be perfect for when you come over. Okay? You deserve the best.”
The tension slowly left your body, he felt you soften up against him, and for a moment, it felt like he could breathe again. “Okay… Fine. I’ll wait… I just really miss sleeping next to you.” You whispered, and those words made his stomach feel warm and fuzzy. He missed sleeping next to you too. “I have to get back to work though… I’ll see you later. Try taking a break though, take a nap or something, that’s what the couch is for.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek before getting up, his arms reluctantly loosening around you until you were free to go. “Seriously, get some sleep.”
///
“Where are you going?” Ella asked from the couch, watching Chan storm to the front door and yank his coat off the hook. “Did you and your girlfriend get into a little fight? Do you have to go kiss and make up now?” The mocking tone in her voice would usually only slightly irritate him, but he was already beyond irritated at the reason he had to leave in the first place.
“No, it’s your damn mother.” He snapped, pulling his shoes on before grabbing his keys. “I don’t know how long she’ll hold me up, there’s food in the freezer, or you can grab my wallet out of my bag and order yourself something. Try to do some studying while I’m gone, please?” And without another word he was out the front door, slamming it behind him.
What Chan didn’t know was that he had left his wallet at work on his studio desk, and you had gone into his studio before leaving to see if he was there but only found his wallet. He must have left the building without saying anything to you, and you wondered if maybe he was sick or something had happened back at his place. You were doing the right thing, at least that’s what you felt you were doing. You were just going to take his wallet home to him and check up on him. You didn’t mind that his house might be a little dirty, you completely understood that he was busy, you didn’t expect his house to be immaculate.
You weren’t sure why you were so nervous to stand in front of his front door, but a chill ran through your body and you had to take a few breaths before even lifting your hand to knock. Once you did, you took a step back, listening to the locks being undone before the door opened. It wasn’t who you expected to see, it wasn’t Chan, it was a girl, she looked younger, at least 15 or 16. “Oh, I’m sorry. I must have read the address wrong.” You quickly apologized, bowing your head to the girl before turning away.
“Who are you looking for?” The girl asked, and what you weren’t aware of was that she had seen Chans wallet in your hand, she knew that you had come to the right address, she was just playing a game that you didn’t know about. You quickly said his name, and she let out a soft hum. “He’s out right now. It’s date night for him and my mom.” You felt your stomach sink, deeper and deeper until it couldn’t go any further. “Is that his wallet? Thank you so much for bringing it, I’m sure he’ll be happy to know that you brought it back. Hopefully he’ll answer his phone so he can pick it up and pay the bill, you know?”
You nodded slowly, the bile from your stomach rising into your throat. “Y-Yeah… Of course… H-Here you go.” You stammered, your hand shaking as you handed the wallet over to the girl. You knew she wasn’t lying, she looked so much like Chan it was uncanny. Why hadn’t he told you? What was he even doing with you? He had a wife, or at least a girlfriend or fiancee… He had a child… But he was going around with you? It was beginning to add up though… Why he always wanted to go over your house. Why he’d rather go to a hotel than to bring you to his own place. You felt absolutely sick.
“Have a good night!” The girl chimed cheerfully as you made your way back to your car, the light from inside the house that had illuminated the front yard faded until you were covered in darkness. You were devastated, you were heartbroken… You had never felt more humiliated in your life and all you wanted to do was go crawl underneath a rock and hide there.
///
The meeting with his ex wife the night before had stressed Chan out beyond belief. He couldn’t believe that after 8 years she wanted to fight for custody of Ella now. Her reasoning behind it would have been laughable if they hadn’t been so damn ridiculous. By the time he had gotten home though, Ella was already in bed and he was so tired from dealing with his ex that he had gone right to bed as well. By morning, Ella had already left for school, so he’d have to wait until he got off work and she got home from school to even talk to her about what her mother had said.
Now, he was only looking forward to seeing you. You were the only person at this point who could calm him down and bring him some semblance of peace, at least for the short amount of time that he got to be with you. “Hey, lovely.” He called to you when he caught you walking down the hall. Usually you’d smile and wave, you’d even run over to him sometimes if the hall was empty. This time you just shook your head before lowering it and walking right by him.
It was a shock to say the least, and his mind immediately jumped to the worst, although he couldn’t be 100% sure of what had happened that would cause you to be acting like this. Was it because of the hotel comment the day before? Was it because he wouldn’t let you come over to his house? It couldn’t be that though, he had talked to you about it. It had to be something more, but he couldn’t figure it out. You looked absolutely pissed, like you didn’t want anything to do with him.
“Y/N!” He called out your name now, jogging down the hall to catch up with you, but you didn’t even look up at him, and you sure as hell didn’t slow down. In fact, it seemed like you sped up, like you were trying to get away from him. “Hey… What… What’s wrong? What happened? Are you okay?” He lowered his voice but quickened his steps to keep up with you, trying to duck down just enough to get a view of your face, but every time he got close enough you’d look away.
“I don’t want to talk to you, I don’t want to see you. Whatever it was that you made me think we had, it’s over. I’d like it if you left me alone now.” You stated flatly, your arms tightening around the multitude of folders that you clutched to your chest. “I’m changing groups, I won’t be one of your staff anymore as well, so please, don’t bother me anymore.”
Something had happened, and it wasn’t something that could easily be fixed like Chan thought. It was worse, way worse. You had basically fired yourself from being his group's staff because of whatever happened. “Hold on!” His fingers wrapped around your upper arm, stopping you from going any further. “So you’re just… Breaking up with me? You’re not even going to tell me why!?” His voice cracked as it rose in pitch, his chest rising and falling heavily as the panic fully set in. “I fucking love you, Y/N… You can’t just do this to me and not tell me why.”
When you finally looked up, he could see your eyes were glistening, your bottom lashes bedazzled with twinkling tears that clung onto them. You were just as upset as he was. “Stop pretending, Christopher!” You croaked out, sniffling loudly once the words left your chapped lips. “I refuse to be the rebound chick that you think you can run to when your marriage is on the rocks. I won’t be strung along by you, not anymore.” You took a few deep, shaky breaths to compose yourself before you pulled your arm free of Chans hold. “Now, if you don’t mind… I have another group to meet. I have work to do. I do believe that you have some work to do as well.” You bowed your head to him before turning and walking away, leaving him more confused than he was before.
His marriage… It had fallen apart years ago when he had come home to find his wife in bed with another man while his daughter was fast asleep in the room across the hall. It had been disgusting, heartbreaking, it would have been his downfall if not for his daughter and the moral, mental, and emotional support of the guys. He wasn’t sure why it was being brought up, he didn’t even know how you had found out, but that same feeling of devastation that he had felt 8 years ago was flooding him once again.
The guys… They were the only ones who would be able to talk to you, they were the only ones who knew about the secret past that Chan was trying so hard to hide from you. Would they do something like that though? Would they hurt him like that? “Yo! What’s up?” Changbin said as he came up behind Chan, his arm draping over his shoulder. “You’re… crying? What happened?” The cheerful tone was immediately dropped, and even though Changbin was younger, he was in full protection mode.
“Y/N… She… She broke up with me…. She knows about Sana…” He gasped out the words, each of them getting caught in his throat, it felt like he was choking. “Somebody told her… Someone… They had to have told her! Who!?” He was shouting now, his sadness turning to anger in a matter of seconds. The look of confusion of Changbins face was enough for Chan to know that he had no idea what Chan was talking about, and that in itself proved his innocence. That left 6 more guys to question.
“Y-You know that none of us would do that to you… Why would we do that? You were happy!” Changbin quickly defended the others as well, seeing in Chans eyes that he was on the warpath and he wasn’t going to stop until he found out who had told you. “I… I do know she went to the studio last night after you left… She… She said something about your wallet but… Maybe she went to your house to drop it off and… and…-”
“Ella…” Chan muttered out the name, a loud groan leaving him as his head fell back. “I have to go… Will you be okay? Can you run practice for me?” Now he was in a hurry, a hurry to get home, to talk to you… He had so many things he had to do, he didn’t even know where to begin. Changbin nodded his head, patting Chans shoulder before taking a step back. Truthfully, Chan didn’t know what the hell he was going to do… But he knew he had to do something. He wasn’t going to lose you… He couldn’t.
///
“Sit. Now.” Chan said, not even giving his daughter time to fully come through the door before the words left his mouth. He had been sitting at the table, thinking over and over about how he’d go about bringing it up to her, but now that she was finally home, all of his thoughts had gone out the window and all he could feel was irritation. She rolled her eyes, dropping off her bag and kicking her shoes off like she did every day, heading in the direction of her bedroom. “Did you not hear me? I want to talk to you.”
“About what?” She snapped, whipping around to face him. “About the lady that showed up on our front porch last night?” Chans eyes widened, he didn’t even have to drag it out of her, she wasn’t a liar… and for that, he was proud, he had at least taught her one good thing. “Did she dump you? Well good… You don’t deserve to be happy. Not after what you did to mom…” After… what he did…? He was stunned into silence, his head cocked to the side as he tried to think about what he could have possibly done to make him the bad guy in all of this. “She told me all about it, don’t try to act like you’re so innocent.”
Those weren’t Ellas words, those were her mothers words and she was speaking them for her. “I tried so hard to protect your mother for some reason… So that you wouldn’t think badly of her… And this is what she does.” He mumbled, running his hand through his hair and sighing heavily. “Can you please sit? I really need to talk to you…” He stretched his legs under the table, pushing out the chair across from him and motioning to it with his head. He could see the reluctance, but she finally made her way over, dropping down into the chair, but not without an eye roll and a look of disgust. “I didn’t want to tell you the truth… I didn’t want you to see your mother as anything less than what she is… But I wasn’t the one who did anything. Your mother is the reason we’re divorced…”
“You’re a liar… She said that you’d lie…” Ella mumbled, her arms crossing over her chest as she glared at her father. “Just like you lied to that lady. She didn’t even know I existed! You kept me a secret from her… Why? Are you embarrassed of me? Are you ashamed of me?” The sulky teenage attitude subsided, and he could see that she wasn’t just angry, she was upset. He never meant for it to be like this, he didn’t even think that something like this would happen. It’s not like he planned on keeping his daughter hidden forever… He just didn’t want to spring it all on you at the beginning of the relationship.
“No! God, no… El… You are an amazing daughter, you’re smart and you’re funny… You’re the most wonderful thing I’ve ever created. I’m so proud of you…” He whispered, and he could see the tears beginning to form in her eyes. He should have told her these things a long time ago, maybe she wouldn’t be acting out, but it was too late, and now all he could do was try to fix things piece by piece. “I didn’t want to bring someone into your life unless I knew that it was serious… It’s one thing for me to be hurt… But I didn’t want you to potentially get close to her just for her to leave and hurt you too.” He swallowed thickly, taking a deep breath to prepare himself before continuing. “I divorced your mother… Because she cheated on me, Ella. Do you really think I would have gotten custody of you if it were the other way around? The man she married… That’s… That’s the guy… And they’re already divorced… And she’s already married again. She’s been married twice since the divorce, and I… I haven’t been with anyone until a couple months ago. Do you think that would be the case if I was the one who had screwed up?” He could see the gears turning in her mind as she thought about everything that he was saying, and he could see that it was all adding up. “Your mother wanted to meet up with me yesterday because she’s trying to get custody of you…”
Ellas eyes widened and her head shook fast. “No… I don’t… I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to live with her, dad.” The words were rushed out, full fledged panic written across her features. “Don’t let her take me… I want to stay with you… I’m sorry… I’m sorry I told the lady that you were having date night with mom. I’m sorry that I ruined it… I’m sorry… Please don’t let her take me.” She was crying now, absolutely bawling, and it broke his heart to see his daughter so upset.
He jumped out of his chair, running around to her side of the table and pulling her up into his arms. Right now, she wasn’t just a teenager with a bit of an attitude problem… She was his little girl, and he was going to protect her and he was going to keep her safe. He was going to fix everything, no matter what it took. “She’s not going to get you, she won’t win. You’re staying here with me… I promise.”
///
“Have you gotten a hold of her?” Ella asked, dropping down onto the couch beside her father. It had been weeks since the last time he had spoken to you, but he had seen you in the halls at the building every single day. No matter how many times he tried to stop you and explain everything, you’d just keep walking like you didn’t know him at all. Ella could see that it was breaking him, and she knew that it was her fault. “I’m really sorry, dad…” She mumbled.
Your picture was still his lockscreen, and every time a notification would pop up on his phone he would jump up, a single second of excitement and wishful thinking, only to be let down once he realized it was someone, anyone but you. “It’s okay… I’m gonna try to get some work done. Let me know when you get hungry, I’ll make us some dinner, yeah?” And she nodded slowly, waiting for Chan to get up and go into his little office before running to the front door and pulling on her shoes. If he wasn’t able to fix it, maybe she could.
The walk to the building wasn’t too far, and she knew that, for the most part, whenever her father went into his office it was so he could cry in private. That usually lasted a couple hours, and she was sure that she wouldn’t need too much time.
Everyone in the building knew her, they had heard so much about Chans daughter that she was looked at as an idol herself. They all welcomed her warmly, but she was on a mission. “Hi! Would you happen to know where an Y/L/N Y/N is? My dad sent me to make sure she got something.” She came up with it quickly, and no one seemed to question it either. They gave her the information just as fast and sent her on her way… It was far too easy… She’d have to talk to her dad about that.
The ride up the elevator gave her enough time to think about what she would say, or at least a little bit of what she’d say. Truth be told, she was nervous. She wanted things to go well for her fathers sake, but she knew that the trouble she had caused and what she did could have irreversible damage.
When the doors slid open, it was like fate had brought her here at this exact moment, because you were standing right outside the doors. “Oh… Uhm… I-I remember you…” You murmured, bowing your head to her before taking a step back. “I think you’re on the wrong floor though… Your father is a couple floors down.”
Ella shook her head, stepping out of the elevator, trying to look like she wasn’t a nervous wreck standing in front of you. “I’m here to talk to you.” She said, her head held high just to exemplify the false feeling of confidence that she was trying to give off. “Are you busy?”
“I’m very sorry if me being with your father created any problems. I’m not with him anymore though… And, with all due respect… I’m just trying to move on.”
“That’s the problem though!” Ella blurted out as you moved past her and stepped into the elevator, turning around quickly on her heel to face you, her hand pressed against the elevator door to keep it from closing. “Him and my mother aren’t together… They haven’t been together for 8 years. I… I was upset because… I didn’t understand what happened… I didn’t know why my parents weren’t together and… My mom lied and… And I’m sorry. My dad really loves you… And he wanted me to meet you… And he’s been crying every night because I ruined your relationship because I lied just like my mom and I’m… I’m really sorry, ma’am…”
She was once again crying, and you didn’t really know what to do, but it felt wrong to just stand there and watch her cry, so you hesitantly stepped out of the elevator and gave her the most awkward one armed hug. “It’s… It’s okay…” You murmured, and much to your surprise, she turned her body completely toward you and wrapped her arms around you. Whether there was a maternal bone in your body at all before this moment or not, you immediately felt the urge to comfort her, to make sure she was okay, to wipe her tears and tell her that everything would be fine. “Hey… Hey, let’s go to my office. We can get a drink and some tissues and then… I’ll take you home. Is that okay?”
Ella nodded slowly, her face scrunched up and her bottom lip pushed out. She really did look like her father. “Will you talk to him?” She asked weakly, and as much as you hated him… Now that you knew the truth… It felt like the right thing to do, so you hummed in agreement to her question, leading her down the hall to your little office and pushing the door open for her. “Y-You know… You’re still his main picture on his phone. He’s waiting for you to text him or call him or something… He misses you so much.”
You were sure that she didn’t mean to tell you so much, and you were very sure that Chan would be incredibly embarrassed if he found out that his daughter was telling you so much. “I’ll talk to him, I promise… Pinky promise.” You held out your hand, your pinky extended to her, and she quickly latched her finger around yours, a bittersweet smile tugging at her lips.
“You are really pretty… He wasn’t lying… And you’re really nice too. I would be really mad at me if I were you…” She lowered her head, her entire body slouching forward as she sat in the chair across your desk. “Why aren’t you mad at me?” Her voice was below a whisper, her question genuine, and you didn’t really know how to answer it.
“Well…” You began, your fingers drumming against your lap as you leaned back in your chair. “I don’t blame you for what you did… You’re a child and… And your parents divorced. I’m sure that any child would be upset if they found out either of their parents was dating someone else, especially if the kid doesn’t understand why their parents divorced in the first place. You were protected from the truth… But it made you do something that you regret. It’s still not your fault though, it’s no one's fault.” You reached across your desk, your hand faced up for her, and she slowly placed her hand in yours, the smile from earlier returning to her face, but this time it was just a little bigger and it reached her eyes. “Let’s go see your dad, yeah?”
///
Chan had at some point cried himself to sleep while sitting in front of his computer, but the sound of a soft knock on the door had him jolting awake. “Dad?” Ellas voice came between the small crack in the door as she peeked inside, and he quickly wiped the sleep from his eyes as he got up from his chair, almost bringing his entire laptop with him since he forgot to take the headphones off. “I ordered dinner for us… It’s here.” She said between little giggles at the way he stumbled. It was nice to hear her laugh, he hadn’t heard it in a bit, not from anyone in the house. He wondered what had changed.
“You didn’t have to do that, I would have cooked for us…” He said somberly, but he knew that she was doing it as a favor for him. He was a wreck, it was visibly noticeable that he hadn’t had more than a few hours of sleep in the past two weeks, he had bags under his eyes and his hair was a mess. He was a shell of the man that he once was when he had you, but he knew he had to get better, he wasn’t sure how he would do that, but it wasn’t fair to Ella to constantly be like this, it would only make her feel more guilty. “I’ll be right out… Thank you.” He said when she hovered in the doorway, and he watched her walk away. There was a bounce in her step, she hadn’t been this peppy in a while. He was genuinely curious and now he was rushing out of the little studio room so that he’d be able to sit down and talk to her, maybe he could find out what was going on.
“I hope you don’t mind, I brought a friend over.” She said from the kitchen. He was adamant that he had never heard her bring up a friend, especially not one that would come over and visit. Was it a boy? She never mentioned liking anyone at school… Was she too scared to talk to him about those kinds of things? He made a mental note to sit down and talk to her about it one day this week. “Are you coming?” She called out and he hummed in agreement, trudging out of the little room with his head hung just a little.
This wasn’t the first impression that he wanted one of his daughter's friends to have of him as her father. He wanted to look more respectable for the sake of Ellas reputation. It seemed like he didn’t really have a choice though, she was rushing him to come out, and he didn’t want to keep her and whoever she had over waiting. “I apologize, I wasn’t really told that you’d be coming over.” Chan began as he walked down the hall, and he completely froze when he saw just who his daughter had brought over.
“I don’t think anyone really knew I was coming over.” You said lightly, the warmest smile spreading across your face as you looked at him. He couldn’t say anything, he couldn’t find words, all he could manage to do was open his mouth and croak out sounds as salty tears pricked his eyes. “Is it… okay… that I’m here?” You asked when the silence lasted longer than you thought it would, and he nodded his head fervently, wiping his eyes with the sleeves of his hoodie.
“It’s… It’s more than okay… I just… I don’t know why… I don’t mind it though.” He rambled, looking between you and Ella who was currently setting the table for three people instead of the usual two. “You’re… staying for dinner?” He questioned, and you gave him that adorable, heart stopping smile that had stopped him in the halls of the building all of those months ago, the smile that had pushed him over the edge and made him fall for you in the beginning.
“Yes she is.” Ella spoke up, clapping her hands together to get both of your attention. “Do you want me to eat in my room… So the two of you can talk? I’m sure you have a lot to talk about… I can leave you alone if you’d like.” But you shook your head, walking over to the table and playfully ruffling her hair before opening the takeout bag and pulling out the contents.
“I’d like it a whole lot if you stayed and ate with us… But if you want to eat in your room… If your dad says it’s okay… Then you can.” You sounded so… sweet, the way a mother would talk to her own daughter, and the craziest part was that Ella smiled at you before taking a seat at the table, she actually listened to you… There was no attitude that came alone with it. “Are you just going to stand there and look at the food, or are you going to join us in eating it?” You asked, bringing Chan out of his own thoughts and back into the room.
“Yeah… Yeah, I’m coming…” Chan whispered, walking into the dining room and taking his usual seat, but the aura at the table was a lot different now. It’s like the whole room had gotten 10 times brighter, and no matter which way he looked he was met with a warm smile. He had so many questions, but he knew that he had all the time in the world to ask them, and regardless of the answer… He knew that things would be better now, all of the pieces were falling back into place, and the picture was more beautiful than he had ever imagined it to be.
~6 Months Later~
“You’re gonna absolutely crush this test, I know you will.” You stood at the stove, preparing breakfast as Ella sat at the table, her face buried in her text book to get as much last minute studying in before she had to go to school. “No matter what, I want you to remember that your dad and I are so proud of you and how hard you work. Okay? We love you.” Ella hummed softly, not even looking up from her book, but you could see that she was smiling, and that was enough of a response for you to know that she had heard you, that she was listening. You carefully placed her plate down beside her, lightly tapping the table to get her attention. “Please eat. Okay?”
Chan ran out of the bedroom, his eyes barely even opened, his shirt wrinkled and twisted and his hair sticking up in all different directions. “Did she leave yet?!” He asked rather loudly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and blinking a few times before focusing in on his daughter who was looking up at him, her shoulders shaking with silent laughter. “Don’t laugh, it’s not funny. I wanted to give you a hug before you left.” He pouted, and she quickly got up out of her chair, rushing over to Chan and wrapping her arms around him. “You’ll do great. I-”
“No more speeches! You guys are going to make me cry!” Ella dramatically whined, pulling away from Chan and running back to the table to pack her things into her bag and then shoveling as much food into her mouth as she could before going to the front door. “Love you! I’ll see you later!” She mumbled with her mouth full of food, and before the two of you could say it back she was out the door.
Once the door was shut, Chan walked over to you, his arms wrapping around your from behind as he rested his chin against your shoulder. “Hey…” He murmured, pressing a kiss to your cheek that was dampened by tears that you hadn’t even realized had begun to fall. “What’s wrong, lovey?” He cooed, gently turning you around to face him, his head cocked to the side.
“I don’t know… I just… I’ve only been here for six months and… We’ve gotten so close and… She’ll be going off to college soon if that’s what she wants to do… But… I’m gonna miss her and the house is gonna be so empty and…” You pouted up at Chan who couldn’t help but find it adorable the way you were right now. It was the most heartwarming thing, to know that you loved his daughter so much already that you were crying at the thought of her leaving.
“Well… We have the house to ourselves for a couple of hours… We could watch a movie or something to take your mind off of being sad… Or… We could go have some fun… Surprise Ella with a brother or a sister when she comes home from college…” Your eyes widened at the suggestion, but your feet were already moving in the direction of the bedroom, that all too familiar tingly feeling building in your stomach. “We can watch a movie when we’re done… If you’re not too tired.”
Perm Tags :
@whatudowhennooneseesyou @duchesskaren @mytherapisttoldmenotto @lovesunshinefelix @moon0fthenight @kurolils @maruskz @hello-2-u-from-me @mrswolfiechan @bunnychangbin
@his-angell @if-spearb @yomomma104 @lanatheawesome @facelesswrittes @grannyindehouse @cutie-wooyo @felixmainacc @syuuji @jiisungllvr @yukichan67
@randomwimp @silentreadersthings @cutiespaghetti @furiousheartpoetry @lixpixstix
@felixluvr915 @wordsofkpop @kayleigh-28 @szkstay @spnwinchestersd @fleatree @yehsehneeah @vampcharxter @iloveksmohsomuch @lvlnijiro @neteyamsmate4life @futuristicpalacegardenpsychic @delululi @insertsomethingaboutanimehere @karlitaburrito @laylasbunbunny @chimicurri-a @bandolls
@syuuji @moonlight-the-writer @smutdumpskz @extrhotjne @manuosorioh @yeonjunsfox @jazziwritesthings @itshannjisung
#stray kids#skz#stray kids x reader#skz x reader#stray kids x you#skz x you#stray kids headcanons#skz headcanons#stray kids imagines#skz imagines#stray kids scenarios#skz scenarios#stray kids drabble#skz drabble#stray kids fic#skz fic#stray kids angst#skz angst#christopher bang#bangchan#bangchan x reader#bangchan x you#bangchan angst#bangchan headcanons#bangchan imagines#bangchan scenarios#bangchan fic#bangchan drabble
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
You hide your injuries from Katsuki.
900 words
Your phone buzzing on the couch did little to interrupt the deep nap you had fallen into. Two pain meds deep and daytime television lulled you right to sleep.
[Katsuki] Dropping off some stuff at your apartment for when you’re back home.
You have been lying to avoid seeing Katsuki for weeks now. All due to the state that a villain had left you in. Shattered rib, black eye, broken arm. You knew it was inevitable that Katsuki would find out. Yet, you held out as long as possible.
In what fantasy did Dynamite’s partner get beaten up by a villain this bad make sense? Not to mention the villain got away from you. You just couldn’t face Katsuki like this. The shame was too heavy.
You loved Katsuki to the depths of your bones and would die to make him proud. Having him find out you failed and got this badly broken up from some dumb villain was unforgivable.
Your first lie was that you were sick and couldn’t see him. But then he tried to drop off food for you. So, you had to make another lie- you were away on a mission.
That worked until now. Katsuki pulled out the keys from his pocket latching them in the door. His intent was to set up your apartment with fresh groceries for when you got back from your mission. A complication you may have been able to avoid if you didn’t fall asleep on the couch and miss his text.
The front door to your apartment opened and you stirred in your sleep.
“Dumb ass left the TV on,” Katsuki mumbled seeing your daytime television. Walking over to shut it off he got a glimpse of you, passed out on the couch. “What the fuck?!” He exclaimed, snapping you out of your sleep.
You sat straight up alarmed by someone being in your apartment. Your eyes shot wide open at the sight of Katsuki standing in your living room, remote in hand.
"You're home?!" Katsuki stated confused, eyebrows furrowing together. "Why the fuck didn't you tell me?!" His eyes scanned over your broken body. Cast on your arm, left eye almost swollen shut. "What the fuck happened to you?!"
"Katsuki I can explain," you said, getting up off the couch to approach him.
"No! I don't want any more of your fucking lies," He snapped harshly, backing away from you. "Away on a mission- why would you have told me that if you've been here all along?! Were you even sick?!? The hell... if you... don't want to see me anymore- have the fucking guts to say it! Don't... string me along like this!" He yelled.
"No! That's not it!" You exclaimed stepping closer to him still.
"Then what is it?! I- Why would you hide this from me!? I thought I was the first person you'd come to but-," his eyes scanned over your injuries again. "You didn't come to me- even when you look like this? You- clearly don't need me," He decided.
"No! Katsuki isn't it obvious!" You yelled feeling your emotions heighten. "I'm fucking embarrassed!"
"Embarrassed?" Katsuki repeated, bewildered by your explanation.
"I didn't want you to see me this way!" You clarified.
"What the hell happened?" He questioned.
You sighed and looked at the floor. You knew eventually the truth would come out, but this was more painful than you'd imagine it would have been.
"Tell me," he said darkly, a command not a question.
"A villain," you said simply. "They... got away. I... didn't want you to know... you're Dynamite... you can't be dating someone that gets this beat up by some low-grade villain... I- didn't want you to be disappointed, or... find out I'm not good enough to be with you."
Katsuki let out a breath he didn't notice he was holding and took a step forward closing the distance between you two. Wrapping his arms around you, he brought your head to rest on his chest.
"That's- the dumbest shit you've ever said," he said softly. "You're a hero- and a damn good one. Hero work is tough, it's unavoidable we're all going to get beat up sometimes. That doesn't make you any less worthy or- a failure. You're tough as hell and... I'm proud as fuck to call you mine. So- don't ever say that dumb crap to me again." He concluded, squeezing you.
The pent-up anxiety exited your body in the form of soft tears, burying deeper into his chest you finally let it out. Katsuki rested his head on yours providing comfort while sitting in your emotions with you.
"I'm sorry," you mumbled into his chest when the tears lessened.
"Got nothing to apologize for," he said bringing you to look him in the eyes. "Understand?" He asked, you nodded mesmerized by the softness and devotion reflected in his eyes.
Katsuki moved a hand to push your chin and guide your lips to his. God, you missed this, the feel of his plump lips pressed against your own, the promise of security his embrace provided. You could have stayed like this forever, letting the stress you've been bottling up fade away.
However, Katsuki pulled away too soon, staring into your eyes once more. The softness in his eyes contorted into something you'd never seen before. Something dark and sinister.
"Now tell me... everything you know about this villain," he demanded.
sinners: @queenpiranhadon @unofficialmuilover @maddietries @fiannee @i-heart-carlisle @derangedmango @matchat3a @bakugouswaif @reneinii @peachsukii @pastelbakugou @abadbitchblogs @deluluforcarlos55 @b134ch-m4h-ey3z @pinkpurpledreams @that-one-fangirl69 @dreamcastgirl99 @jays-adventure3 @bythevay @my-beloved-fandoms
#</slay writes>#bakugou katsuki x reader#katsuki x y/n#katsuki x you#katsuki x reader#bakugo x gender neutral reader#mha bakugo x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugo x self insert#bakugo x you#bakugo x y/n#bakugo x reader#mha x y/n#mha fluff#bakugo fluff#bakugo fanfic#bakugo comfort#bnha x y/n#bnha x self insert#bnha x gender neutral reader#bnha x you#bnha x reader#mha x gender neutral reader#mha x you#mha x reader#katsuki bakugo#bnha katsuki#katsuki#bakugo katsuki#bakugou katsuki
719 notes
·
View notes
Text
Swept Away | Chapter 4: Tropical Heat
Pairing: sugardaddy!Joel Miller x f!reader
Chapter Summary: The first day on Glenn's yacht is much more dramatic than you originally expect.
Chapter Warnings: language, slow burn, sugar daddy/baby vibes, food and alcohol consumption, intoxication, reader gets drunk and snippy, mentions of past infidelity, flirting, sexual tension, jealousy, one tiny daddy reference, nausea/vomiting, joel gets mean but he makes up for it (he sucks at feelings)
WC: 8.5K
Series Masterlist
"I'm so excited for tomorrow. Glenn's yacht is supposed to be massive. Like, full crew, multiple levels. The type you'd usually charter but he actually owns it." Zoe sighed dreamily next to you at the hotel salon. You were listening but your eyes were pinned on your nails, watching as the technician managed to make your hands look like they were out of a catalogue in less than an hour.
"Yeah, that - it sounds really cool," you replied. "Should be fun. Joel said there's some tiny islands we might check out or something."
Zoe nodded excitedly. "Zach said there's one called Monu Island. We're supposed to have dinner there the first night."
"Dinner? How?" you asked. She looked at you like you had two heads.
"The crew brings the stuff to shore for us and cooks?" she said as if she were explaining how to ride a bike. Shit. You probably should have known something like that if you were pretending to be in the upper, upper class.
"Oh, yeah, I knew that," you said with a nervous laugh, "I meant how are they going to get us off that yacht? The more I keep hearing about it, the harder it's going to be to pull me away from it."
Zoe giggled and you inwardly breathed a sigh of relief.
"Maybe you can convince Joel buy one for yourselves. He can certainly afford it," she told you with a wink.
"Yeah, and Zach can't?"
She shrugged, smile still stretched across her face but you could see something shifting in her eyes. "Can I tell you something?"
You nodded and leaned a little closer.
"I don't think Zach's doing very well. Business-wise."
Your eyes widened, encouraging her to continue.
"I don't know for sure, but I have overheard a few conversations and I get the feeling if he doesn't win this bid, his hotel chain is done for."
"Oh, no," you breathed, brows crinkling with concern. "Zoe, I'm so sorry."
She gave you a confused look but quickly recovered. "Oh, thanks. It's no big deal, you know. I'll be just fine."
What did that mean? Zoe would be just fine if Zach went bankrupt? How?
You wanted to press her further but you could tell the door closed. She was looking down at her freshly manicured nails with a huge smile then held them up to your face and wiggled them around.
"What do you think?"
She had picked a white nail polish with a faint hint of sparkle. The color did look very nice against her tanned skin and you told her so right when your technician released your hands, announcing you were all set. Pulling your fingers from the blue light, you admired them up close.
"Alright, I'll admit it. I questioned your color choice before but damn, that looks so pretty on you," Zoe said enviously as she examined your hot pink nails with a glitter top coat.
"Thanks," you gushed, hardly able to tear your eyes away after you left the salon and headed for the elevators. You could count on one hand how many times you ever got your nails done in the past and it was always for a special occasion: prom, a wedding... maybe once when someone got you a gift certificate for Christmas. It felt like such a treat and it gave you a nice little confidence boost.
You waved to Zoe when she got off on her floor, vowing to see each other in the morning bright and early on the dock, then rode the elevator the rest of the way to your floor.
It was difficult to contain your excitement when you entered the room, but you remained quiet because you heard Joel's voice carrying from the living room. He had someone on speaker who was discussing budgets and employee turnover so you snuck past him and headed towards your room to pack.
How much does one person need for two days? Not a lot, probably. But you weren't very clear on the dress code. Was this going to be casual? You already noticed if Glenn organizes the parties, the vibe is much more relaxed but Mary tends to make it a little more formal when she handles things.
After packing a swimsuit, two coverups, one set of pajamas (which you agonized over when you remembered you would be sharing a bed with Joel), and three different options for daytime wear, you went back out into the living room to see if Joel would know what you should pack for the evenings.
"Joel?" you asked softly when you spotted him sitting quietly on the couch with his eyes closed. He tilted his head to the side and slowly opened his eyes. "Are you okay?" you asked. He nodded and stood with a groan.
"Just tired," he said right when his laptop chirped with two new emails. He began to walk towards the table but you were closer. You bravely closed his laptop with two fingers and he froze.
"C'mon, what're you doin'?" he asked, taking another step, but you shook your head and leaned forward, resting your weight on the arm that was holding his computer closed.
"You need to take a break," you told him firmly. He scowled and crossed his arms.
"I'll be takin' a break when we're on the damn yacht."
"Taking a break on the weekend is a given. You work around the clock, Joel, you need to slow down."
"I don't got time for this," he told you with a shake of his head. "I'm busy, I got a company to run."
"Well that's just too bad because I have dresses to try on and I need help picking ones to pack," you told him just as sternly. His eyes flickered up to yours and you could practically see the gears in his head turning. "I think that's far more important than some emails, don't you think?"
His mouth twitched and you could see his face soften and you knew you had him.
"Fine. Ten minutes," he relented. You grinned and skipped off to your room, and only when your back was turned did he allow himself to smile.
Joel sat patiently on your bed while you tried on the handful of dresses you grabbed and put in the bathroom, waltzing back into your room every few minutes with a new one to show him.
"Darlin', I already told you. You look good in all of these."
"Yeah, but which ones are your favorites?" you pressed, doing a little twirl so he could see the back of the pink dress you were currently wearing. "And what will we be doing? Like, how formal are these evenings going to be?"
He shook his head, his eyes glued to the curve of your back when you spun around again. "Not that formal. One night we'll be on the beach, the other night just on the deck."
You nodded and tapped your chin with your finger. Any of the dresses you had would do now that he told you it wasn't that formal, but you were pushing twenty minutes of no laptop or cell phone useage and you really wanted him to take a longer break from work, so you had an idea.
"Okay, just one more. I'll be right back," you told him, scurrying off to the bathroom to slip into a deep purple dress that just so happened to be the shortest one in the bunch by a mile. You weren't sure what Joel's assistant was thinking buying you something so short and tight. When you looked in the mirror, the fabric clung to your curves, leaving very little to the imagination with only two thin spaghetti straps to hold it up.
Obviously it was too inappropriate to wear on the yacht, but that didn't stop you from taking a deep, nervous breath and strolling back into your bedroom with what you hoped was an air of innocence.
He was leaning back on his elbows when you walked in, eyes drifting around your room and taking note of the items you kept on your nightstand, but when he saw what you were wearing he straightened right up.
"What do you think?" you asked as you twirled, but that time you made sure to take it slow.
"It's, uh..." his throat when dry when he saw how perfectly the dress hugged your ass and he had to clear his throat. "Nice," he finally managed to say. You fought back a smirk when you heard the strain in his voice.
"Yeah?" you asked, looking down at the dress. "I don't know, the material is a little rough."
Joel swallowed when you ran your hands slowly down the fabric, your palms traversing over your soft curves, making his fingers twitch.
As if you read his mind, you looked back up at him with a little pout and asked, "you wanna feel?"
Without hesitation, he spread his knees and beckoned you over with two fingers. You grinned and stepped forward, stopping when you stood between his legs, his mouth mere inches away from your stomach.
You could feel his hot breath through the dress and you had to suppress a tingle down your spine, but when he lifted his hands to cup the backs of your bare thighs, you couldn't hide your reaction that time. You made a little noise in the back of your throat when his fingers squeezed your legs and he looked up at you, eyes so dark and filled with lust that it took your breath away.
"This okay?"
"Mhmm," you hummed, your hands coming up to his shoulders so you could balance yourself. His fingers inched up your legs slowly, tentatively exploring without giving into his deepest desires. But fuck... if he wanted to, you would have let him.
He slid his hands up the sides of your thighs, his fingers catching a bit on the hem of your dress before reaching your hips. He caressed the material there with both hands, each of you still pretending as if the fabric of the dress was any concern.
"See what I mean?" you whispered. Slowly, he nodded, but his eyes remained pinned on your body, his gaze drinking in every inch of you, committing you to memory.
"Fuck, you look good," he murmured as if it pained him, letting the facade slip for a moment. Your heart fluttered in your chest and you began to play with the curls on the back of his head. He tilted his chin to look up at you, his lips parted and his cheeks a little flushed. Nothing else had happened since that afternoon in the ocean when he kissed you other than leaving you completely confused about the nature of your relationship. But in that moment, you couldn't care less. All you wanted was to feel his lips on yours again, to feel that spark of electricity over your skin, so you leaned down a fraction, your gaze flicking from his eyes to his lips, making your intention crystal clear.
Just as you were about to brush your lips against his, he pulled his head away and dropped his hands. Immediately, you straightened back up, embarrassment warming your face while you tried to figure out what you did wrong.
"We can't," was all he said, eyes drifting to look everywhere except at you. You nodded and quickly stepped back, shame coursing through your veins.
"I'm sorry," you said, your voice cracking a bit. You cleared your throat and repeated yourself then hurried out of the room to get changed.
Joel called your name, asking you to come back, but you were too ashamed. Instead, you slipped back into the bathroom and practically ripped the purple dress off out of anger, vowing to tuck it way back into the depths of your closet so you wouldn't have to look at it the entire rest of the trip.
By the following morning, you forced yourself to brush off the awkwardness with Joel from the day before. You had three more weeks to spend with him pretending to be his fianceé and you refused to let one uncomfortable situation dictate the rest of your time there. So you plastered on a big smile for him the next morning when you exited your room with your bags in each hand. You could tell he wasn't sure how to react. He tiptoed lightly around you, making sure he didn't even accidentally touch you as you both moved around the hotel room collecting everything you would need.
In the elevator ride down to the lobby, he tried to bring it up but you cut him off before he could even finish his sentence.
"Did you remember your seasick medication?"
He floundered for a moment, scanning your face for any sign of bitterness, but he found none. If you wanted to pretend it never happened, that was fine by him.
"Yeah," he finally said, and you nodded before turning to stare straight ahead at the closed elevator doors.
He didn't try to mention it again.
When you arrived at the dock with the sun just beginning to peek over the water, casting the ocean in a beautiful golden hue, you felt your mood instantly improve. You were in fucking paradise and nothing was going to ruin that for you.
The crew was loading up your belongings and you were chatting with Glenn and Mary about how excited you were when Glenn's phone pinged in his hand.
He tugged his glasses out of his shirt pocket so he could read the text and he let out a disappointed groan.
"Ian's got food poisoning, Harry says," he told the three of you, "they can't make it. That's a damn shame."
"Oh, that's terrible. I hope it's not too serious," Mary said sympathetically.
You heard the telltale sound of heels tapping on the wooden planks behind you and you turned around to see the rest of the couples, along with Trevor and Brooks, arriving. The crew hurried past to assist with their bags and for the first time all day, Joel wrapped an arm around your waist. Your muscles stiffened at first and he felt it. Guilt washed over him before he cleared his throat and lifted his other hand in greeting. Zoe spotted you and waved excitedly, her energy just as infectious in the early morning hours.
When you spotted Tammy a few yards behind Zoe, your smile faltered a bit. You still hadn't brought up what you learned to Joel. Did you even have a right to know about his past with Tammy? You thought you did given how it could blow your cover, but maybe it was just gossip.
Still, it got under your skin.
When Zoe greeted you with a hug, you caught the look of distaste Tammy shot to Lynne before turning her head to gaze out over the ocean. It couldn't just be in your head at this point. There was definitely something going on with these women that you were not privy to yet.
Joel took your hand and lead you aboard the yacht, once again feeling the discomfort at his touch radiating off you.
He handled everything all wrong, he knew that almost immediately. It was all his fault. He was weak that day in the ocean and couldn't stop himself from kissing you, and now you were confused and hurt, but there was a reason he didn't want a traditional sugar baby agreement. He needed to keep his eye on the prize and stay focused, not standing there pretending to admire the lavish sitting room Glenn was showing everyone while wondering if you were wearing the lingerie he purchased for you.
How the hell did you manage to weave your way into his psyche so fast?
After the tour of the yacht, which was luxurious and had three levels, you were shown your private rooms, all of which included your own bathroom and a window so you could admire the sea from bed.
Joel ticked his jaw to the side as he looked around while you began to unpack a few of your things.
"I can sleep on the floor," he said. Your back was to him but he saw your hands freeze inside your bag before you took a deep breath and continued to pull out your toiletries.
"Don't be ridiculous. We can manage two nights in the same bed."
Even though you couldn't see him, he nodded anyway. He should just say it. Say he's sorry. Sorry for all of it. Sorry for leading you on, sorry for hurting your feelings, sorry for staring at your legs and wondering what they would feel like wrapped around his head.
The guests slowly made their way into the indoor sitting area once they settled in. If there wasn't an entire wall made of glass so you could look out the back of the yacht, you would have thought you were in another mansion. The carpet was plush and white under your feet. When you saw how pristine it was, you almost wanted to ask if you should take your sandals off, but instead you took Joel's lead and left them on.
There were three long, white couches that formed a U shape around a large, cherry wood coffee table. Above your heads the ceiling was dotted and lined with soft lights, giving the whole room a very warm and inviting glow. Abstract art hung on the walls but there wasn't much space: any wall that bordered the sea was made of glass. And across from the couches, built up against an interior wall was a bar that appeared to be stocked with every liquor and mixer known to man.
The crew had poured glasses of champagne and mimosas and left them on the bar. They were standing at attention against the wall near the kitchen, waiting to jump into action if need be.
Joel picked up two mimosas and handed you one. You nearly declined when you noted the early hour but decided to take it anyway with a quiet thanks.
"Meant to tell you, I like your nails," Joel said, pointing to your fingers wrapped around your glass. You gave him a small smile before looking back down at your glittery, hot pink nails.
"Thanks," you said, wishing you felt as excited about them as you were yesterday.
Glenn clapped his hands loudly, commanding the attention of the room. He let everyone know breakfast would be served on the dining room on the deck in ten minutes and encouraged people to grab a drink before heading out.
The moment the glass doors were opened, your senses were overcome with fresh, sea-salt air and an occasional fine mist that was being vented above the partially enclosed area.
Everyone found a seat around the square table that was already set with beautiful white plates trimmed in gold with matching bowls and mugs. When the crew began to place trays of fruit, baked goods, meats, eggs, and yogurt on the table, you leaned into Joel and tapped his shoulder.
"Did you take your medicine?" you whispered.
He smiled and put his glass down so he could fish the bottle of pills from his pocket.
"Thank you. That woulda been ugly," he joked, making you giggle before reaching for the tray of fruit. His chest warmed at the sound, pleased to see you smiling again but damn near giddy that he was the one to make you laugh.
You weren't terribly hungry but you nibbled at some fruit and yogurt, knowing you should at least try to eat something if you were expected to keep up with the way the group drank.
After about an hour at the table where you nursed the same mimosa Joel had given you earlier, Glenn stood up and suggested the men go to the top floor for cigars and poker.
"Looks like it's just us, ladies," Mary said gleefully when all the men began to place their cloth napkins on the table and, collecting their own drinks, stood to follow Glenn up the stairs.
"You good?" Joel asked softly before he left. You quickly nodded and shooed him off. You were still feeling rather vulnerable from being shot down the day before but you could feel yourself coming around. Maybe some distance and distraction would help.
If only you knew what the day had in store.
By noon the sun was blazing, the heat seared your skin as you laid out on your lounge chair with the other women. You could smell the faint hint of cigar smoke and hear the laughter from the men up above, but you couldn't see them from where you were. Occasionally you would hear Joel's voice, his southern twang becoming deeper and louder the more he drank and you found yourself smiling.
You were at least three drinks deep and you felt completely relaxed. All your concerns drifted away, getting twisted in the breeze and floating over the water. You even managed to find Tammy somewhat tolerable as you listened to her tell the group about her teenage son and a girl he was dating.
Maybe Zoe was wrong. Maybe it was just a rumor. Tammy seemed to be happy and fulfilled. She had what appeared to be a very strong marriage with Scott and they had two boys. By all accounts, they appeared to be a very happy family.
"I think I'm gonna take a break in the shade," Zoe announced, fanning herself while she picked up her things.
"Okay, dear. There should be chilled bottles of water out but if not, just ask the bartender. He can get you whatever you need," Mary told her while she adjusted her enormous sun hat.
"I think I'll join you," you said, suddenly feeling like your mouth was coated in sand. You couldn't even remember drinking any water since the hotel that morning.
The three other women waved politely when you stood and followed Zoe back inside where the air conditioning embraced you like an old friend.
"Oh, god, that feels nice," you groaned. The room was empty except for one bartender who was taking stock of the liquor with a clipboard. He quickly set it aside when Zoe approached and asked for two waters. You picked a couch and set your things down next to you with a sigh, then thanked Zoe when she handed you a frosted glass bottle of water.
Both of you practically chugged your respective drinks in under a minute, then giggled when you realized how crazy you must have looked.
"We gotta pace ourselves," Zoe said with a grin and a shake of her head. "It's gonna be a long night. Zach said we aren't supposed to reach the island til six, and with the time it will take for the crew to set up and cook, we'll be eating dinner late."
"That means we'll be getting back here even later," you said, finishing her thought.
She nodded and tossed her hair over her shoulder, her eyes a little glassy and her cheeks a little pink, either from the sun or alcohol or both. But based on the way she couldn't stop laughing at the smallest thing, you suspected alcohol was the bigger reason. When she glanced at you and erupted into a fit of giggles again without having to say a word, you knew for sure she was a little past tipsy.
"What?" you laughed, her silly mood too contagious to resist.
"Nothing, nothing," she said with a wave, then seemed to think about it for a second before giving you a mischievous grin and leaned forward, cupping her hand around her mouth in an attempt to muffle her voice, but it didn't work.
"Can I ask you a personal question?"
You shrugged and nodded. "Sure."
She giggled again, slapping her palm over her mouth and tucking her chin against her chest. You frowned and laughed at how ridiculous she was acting and wondered what on earth she was about to say.
She cupped her hand over her mouth again and whispered loudly, "how is Joel in bed?"
Your eyebrows shot up in surprise at her question. Instantly, images and daydreams of what you thought Joel would be like in bed flashed across your mind. What the weight of his body would feel like pressed against yours, pushing you into the mattress. How his lips would feel wrapped around your nipple, his teeth teasing and pinching your skin. Would he kiss you slow and deep or passionate and needy? Would he groan your name when he buried his cock deep inside you? What was his favorite position?
All these things and more you had found yourself wondering more times than you could count since a few days ago in the ocean. He had completely taken over your mind to the point where you could hardly remember the girl you were when you first met, sitting in his office ready to storm out because of his abrupt and seemingly unpleasant nature.
You cleared your throat as you bought some time to scrounge up a lie.
"He's... good. Really good," you added. She nodded excitedly and rolled her wrist, urging you to continue. "He's attentive and... he doesn't rush." You could feel your cheeks heating up when you realized you were just telling her what you wished he was like, what you wished any of the men you had been with were like, only to always fall short in some way or another. "I'm not saying he can't be-" you glanced over your shoulder before lowering your voice, "rougher, because he can. There's been times I can hardly move after," you giggled and she gasped enthusiastically. "But he's always so sweet when we're done. He takes such good care of me, gets me whatever I need, tells me how beautiful I am." You swallowed, feeling only slightly pathetic at how you were turning yourself on with your own lies.
"How about Zach? What's he like?" you asked, changing the subject. Her face fell and she waved you off before taking another sip of water.
"Girl, c'mon, you know the answer to that."
Now it was your turn to gasp but the corners of your mouth twitched into a playful smile.
"What do you mean?"
She rolled her eyes at you and sighed. "You've seen him. He's not hiding anything spectacular, I promise you that."
Zach was significantly older than Zoe. Their age difference especially showed when he stood after sitting for a while, groaning deeply and usually needing a hand to steady himself, or when his phone alarm went off at various times during the day, volume practically maxed out, reminding him to take some pill. But you never got the impression Zoe was unhappy until now.
"So why are you with him?" you asked. Of course, you had to assume his money had something to do with it, but her answer was still not what you expected.
"Can you keep a secret?" she asked conspiratorially. You nodded and leaned forward. Zoe glanced around to make sure nobody else snuck into the massive sitting room before she whispered, "I'm a sugar baby."
"Y-you're... what?" you asked, your voice wavering. Fuck, you really wished you didn't have that last mojito. You were trying to keep your cool but your vision was swimming and your mind was buzzing.
"I think Tammy and Lynne suspect something. I think that's why they don't like me," she said, leaning back and gazing out to the ocean. "Nobody knows for sure, you can't say a word," she said, fear suddenly gripping her. "If Glenn found out, it would be over for Zach. Glenn holds way too much weight on family shit. He already isn't thrilled with our age difference," she sighed, gazing down at her freshly manicured nails. "But between you and me, I hope he doesn't get this land. He wouldn't be able to afford me anymore. Like, I want what's best for him and I want him to be happy, but this relationship is running its course, if you know what I mean."
"Yeah," you breathed, "wow, I had no idea."
She shrugged and picked up her phone. "It's really not a bad gig, but it would be a hell of a lot better if the guys looked like Joel instead of Zach," she giggled.
You laughed softly and took another sip of your water, your mind reeling. The pressure to pull off this little stint was mounting. Joel wasn't the only one who noticed Glenn was a man with family values and tried to do the exact same thing, and now more than ever Joel's alleged affair with Tammy seemed like a huge loose end that could jeopardize your whole lie.
Your nerves got the best of you. Looking back on it, you should have realized that before having two more drinks with lunch, but Zoe's bombshell left you rattled and you got carried away.
Around four in the afternoon, the men returned from the upper deck with their skin pink and their shirts a little damp from sweat, but they were all smiles when they stepped out onto the deck to find their partners with the exception of Glenn's sons, who came by themselves.
Joel didn't notice at first how tipsy you were because you did your best to hide behind a pair of sunglasses and a large hat. He sat down on the lounge chair near yours, looking like he had a couple drinks himself but not nearly as many as you. He appeared relaxed and at ease, no doubt pleased by whatever progress he made with Glenn in the past few hours.
"How's everythin' goin' down here?" he asked, his eyes scanning around the crowd of people who were beginning to mingle.
"Good," you said, "I found out some very interesting information that-" you hiccupped and covered your mouth, "that you would find interesting."
He raised an eyebrow at you and smirked. "Interesting information that I would find interesting?"
"Mhmm," you said, nodding vigorously this time. "I will tell you later," you added, unnecessarily enunciating each word, "when we're alone," you whispered, not realizing your voice was still rather loud. It didn't matter anyway, nobody could overhear you when the guests were all breaking up into groups and talking over each other, but still.
He grinned and glanced around the deck, "Alright, then," he replied. He was about to say more when his eyes landed on someone over your shoulder and he stiffened. You were too slow on the uptake to see what Tammy was mouthing to him, but when he subtly nodded and stood up, you glanced behind you to see her walking discreetly into the yacht, leaving her clueless husband behind.
"I'll be right back," he said to you, and before you could say anything to stop him, he strolled off in her wake, leaving you all alone.
You could blame the alcohol and pretend you weren't jealous, but you were absolutely fuming. Zoe had to be right. How could he be so careless? Did he really think nobody would notice? How could he not tell you about his history with Tammy when it could all blow up in your faces?
Then something occurred to you that made your stomach roll and you had to take a few deep breaths to fight back the wave of nausea.
What if they were still having an affair?
Is that why he didn't want to take things further with you? We can't, he had said. Was he fucking another man's wife this entire time?
You never felt so stupid in your life. Of course, that's what it was. No wonder he put a clause in your contract stating that sex was not to be part of the agreement. How fucking pathetic of him to act so faithful to another man's wife.
What if he was fucking her right now?
You stood up too quickly and lost your balance, but fortunately an arm shot out to steady you.
"Hey, you okay?"
You glanced up over your sunglasses to find Brooks, one of Glenn's sons, standing there with his hand wrapped around your arm looking concerned.
Quickly, you shook your head and forced a smile. "Yeah, the sun got to me, I think," you told him, then after another moment you realized his grip around your bicep hadn't loosened. Your eyes slowly drifted down to his hand and you gave your arm a little tug. Finally, he released you and you gave him a polite chuckle before fixing your cover up so you would feel less exposed in your bikini under his gaze.
"My dad says we should be reaching the island soon," he said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his board shorts. They were neon blue and hung low on his hips. Almost too low, as if he were trying to draw your attention to it.
"Yeah, it sounds great. Should be fun," you mumbled, glancing around the deck, still not finding Joel or Tammy.
"Ever been here before?" he asked, tilting his head to the side. You shook your head.
"To Fiji? No," you answered.
"I'm surprised. It's a pretty common vacation spot for people in Joel's circle," Brooks said. If you were a little less distracted you might have picked up on the fact that he said Joel's circle and not your circle, but you didn't. You were too fixated on your anger and you were fueled by one too many drinks.
"Yeah - would you excuse me? I need to use the restroom," you said, gathering your things in your arms.
"Sure thing," he said, taking a step back so you could brush past him. "See you at dinner."
You gave him what you hoped was a polite wave before storming towards the glass doors that led into the yacht, but just when you were a few feet away, the door swung open and Tammy stepped out. It could have been your paranoia, but you thought she had a little smirk on her face when she passed by you and after that, all you saw was red.
You breezed through the sitting room. The only other people around were two servers who were quietly packing up dishware to take to the beach, then Joel suddenly appeared in the entryway that led back to your room wearing a different shirt than before and you clenched your teeth.
"Hey, was just comin' to get you," he said, not yet picking up on your anger. "You should get ready for dinner, we'll be there soon."
You narrowed your eyes at him and crossed your arms, uncaring that you could be overheard when you spat, "whatever you say, daddy," your tone clipped and dripping with disdain.
The muscles in his jaw twitched and his nostrils flared when he finally sensed your energy. He looked up, catching the eye of one of the crew members, who quickly averted his gaze and pretended not to have overheard what you said, then grabbed your arm.
You had the presence of mind not to fight him and cause a scene, but once he hauled you halfway down the hallway towards some privacy, you wrenched your arm out of his hold.
"The hell's the matter with you?" he seethed. "Are you fuckin' drunk?"
You rolled your shoulder, trying to fix your coverup that slipped down your arm while staring daggers at him.
"What's the matter with me?" you repeated, "what about you? What are you doing? Do you really think nobody sees what's going on?"
He furrowed his brow in confusion and made a face. "What are you talkin' 'bout?"
You took a menacing step forward and lowered your voice. "I'm talking about Tammy, Joel."
His eyes flashed with something you couldn't identify and you hardly had a chance to react before he grabbed your arm again and practically dragged you the rest of the way down the hall towards your room. Once you were safely inside, he slammed the door behind him and stalked over to you, making you stumble backwards in surprise.
"What the hell do you know 'bout that?"
You scoffed and rolled your eyes, trying to push down the wave of envy that bubbled up. "So it is true."
"Answer my fuckin' question," he growled, his eyes steely and his breath coming in quick. You shrugged and tried your best not to look nervous while being the target of his wrath.
"That you're having an affair," you said simply.
He stared down at you for what felt like hours before he exhaled and stepped back. He pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head before murmuring, "who told you?"
"Zoe," you sneered, taking one step backwards so you could rest your head against the wall. "Guess that means Zach knows, too."
"Fuck," he grumbled, then dragged his palms down his face in agony. "Fuck!" he said again, but shouted it that time and pounded his fist on top of a dresser.
You watched him nervously as he paced around the room, his anger beginning to sober you up a bit.
"You should have told me," you snapped. He swiveled around to look at you, his jaw so tight he could have cracked a tooth. "You could have ruined this entire thing but you're lucky I was quick on my feet and covered for you."
"You only need to know what I say you need to know," he said darkly, sending a shiver down your spine. "You were hired to do a job, so fuckin' do it."
You swallowed the lump in your throat when you saw the look in his eye.
"I'm trying, but you-"
"No," he said, cutting you off and closing the distance between you. "You were hired to look pretty and act like you're in love with me. That's fuckin' it. Everythin' else is none of your goddamn business."
You were just digging your own grave at that point so you figured there was no harm in tossing one more barb his way.
"Suppose it would have been too much to ask for you to at least tell me why you left sex out of our arrangement, but at least I know now it's not me. It's 'cause you're getting it somewhere else."
He inhaled sharply, his scowl cutting you in half.
"That's what this is 'bout?" he asked, stepping even closer. "You got your feelin's hurt yesterday?" His tone implied insincere pity and it sent a jolt of embarrassment through you but you remained quiet and held his gaze. He somehow had managed to cage you in against the wall, his arms bracing around your head as he leaned in closer. You could now smell a hint of toothpaste on his breath from when he came in earlier, without you, and you couldn't stop your next words from tumbling out.
"Did you bring her back here and fuck her in the bed I'm going to sleep in tonight?"
He smirked. He fucking smirked and you never in your life wanted to slap someone more.
"Jealous, baby?" he cooed. You shook your head but he just continued to give you that smug look. "Oh, I think you are. And you know what else?" He was taunting you now and you should have pushed him away but you just couldn't bring yourself to do it. He leaned in so his lips brushed against your ear when he whispered, "I think you would let me fuck you right now, if I wanted to."
Tears sprung up in your eyes unexpectedly so you quickly slid them shut. You refused to let him have the satisfaction of your humiliation.
Finally, he pushed himself off the wall and gave you space so you could breathe. With your eyes still closed, he spoke again from the other side of the room.
"I was gone ten minutes. Gimme some credit. I ain't fuckin' anyone in ten minutes."
You heard him yank open the closet and you managed to crack open your eyelids with a pathetic sniffle, watching as he tossed a black dress onto the bed.
"Get ready. We'll be leavin' for the island soon." Then disappeared through the door.
It only took about five minutes before Joel calmed down when the guilt crept in again. Once more he handled another situation with you as poorly as possible and to top it off, he was fairly certain he brought you to tears when he left.
He was so fucking stupid. He should have just told you the truth. He should have told you he hadn't slept with Tammy in over a year and what they had was over, but he just had to keep pushing and pushing. How did he keep making mistake after mistake? You weren't wrong. He should have given you a heads up about Tammy, but he never thought anyone else knew. And instead of admitting it, he lashed out, taking his anger out on you when it wasn't even your fault to begin with. It was his, for being careless and stupid enough for others to find out.
When you emerged from your shared room looking refreshed and fucking stunning in the dress he had rudely thrown onto the bed, he almost apologized. He wanted to, but one look at you told him you were not at all ready to hear it, so he swallowed his words and gave you some space. Well, as much space as he could allow when you were surrounded by ten other people on a deserted beach at sunset eating dinner.
He resisted the urge to drape his arm around the back of your chair or brush his fingers against yours where they rested on the table. Please forgive me, I'm sorry, he kept thinking every time he glanced your way, but you avoided all eye contact and focused on the conversation around you.
During dinner, he noticed you had not one but two more drinks and hardly touched a thing on your plate. He wanted to say something, he wanted to encourage you to at least eat a little more, but he couldn't risk setting you off again, especially in front of everyone. So he bit his tongue and smiled politely when he needed to but mentally he was scrambling to come up with a way to make things up to you.
You stretched your neck with a sigh at one point, drawing his attention, his eyes lingering on the way your fingers trailed down your throat, then watched when you pressed two fingertips into a sore spot on the base of your neck.
How could you ever think he wouldn't want you? Of course, he wanted you. Anyone in their right mind would want you. The second he laid eyes on you it was all he could think about. How could you not see that?
Fortunately, the entire group seemed to be tired so nobody really noticed or cared that you and Joel were not very talkative. On the boat ride back, he instinctively reached for your hand when the boat swayed a little in the choppy waters, but you quickly pulled your arm out of reach and turned away.
It was past ten and the waves were rockier than earlier. He wanted to thank you again for reminding him to take his motion sickness pill but he refrained. Fuck, what he wouldn't give to go back to that part of the day and do everything over.
When the boat reached the yacht, you practically leapt off and jogged back inside, his heart sinking in his chest at your retreating form. He offered his good nights and slowly followed you with his head hung low and his hands shoved in his pockets, but when he finally reached your room he realized the real reason you had been in such a hurry.
The moment he opened the door he could hear you retching in the bathroom and his eyes widened. He closed the door behind him quickly and he rushed to the bathroom, pausing on the other side of the door, unsure what to do or say.
"Are you alright?" he finally asked.
"Does it sound like I'm alright?" you shot back before gagging once again. He winced.
"I'll get you some ginger ale and crackers," he said, spinning around the room until he found a mini refrigerator stocked with a few necessities. As expected, some seasick items were supplied, and he picked out a few things he thought might help. Setting them down on your end table, he turned around and scratched his chin.
While he waited for you to emerge, he got himself changed into more comfortable clothes and then went in search of your own pajamas to lay out for you when you were ready. In one of the drawers he found a few motion sickness bags and he left one out for you when an idea struck. Quickly, he rummaged through his pants from earlier and triumphantly pulled out a little plastic bottle of pills.
When was the last time he ever tried this hard for a woman?
Just as he was about to call out to you again, you swung open the door. Your face looked pale and your eyes were red but you remained defiant and refused to glance his way. You spotted the clothes he laid out for you, and then the items on your bedside, and he thought he saw a flicker of affection in your eyes before you blinked and it was gone.
"Here," he said, holding out the bottle for you. "Take one of these, it'll help."
You stared at it for a few moments as you weighed your options, then begrudgingly snatched it from his hand and tapped one out into your palm. Tossing the bottle onto his side of the bed, you swallowed the pill with the water he set out for you and picked up your pajamas before retreating back into the bathroom for some privacy.
By the time you had changed, Joel had already switched the television on low to some bright sitcom he thought you might like and had turned down the bed. He sat on his side of the mattress, shamefully staring down at his fingers laced together in his lap, then glanced up when he heard the door open and the light turn off.
"Thank you," you murmured before sliding into bed and pulling the covers up to your chin.
"You're welcome," he said softly. He watched you silently for a few minutes while the corners of your mouth twitched occasionally at something that was said on the television, then he cleared his throat, warning you he was about to speak.
"I'm sorry," he said, brows pinching together. You looked up at him in surprise but said nothing, so he continued. "I shoulda told you 'bout Tammy. You were right. And I shouldn't've said... that other stuff," he added weakly, looking down at his hands again. "I ain't any good at this," he continued, pursing his lips in thought. "I push people away, I say all the wrong shit, always have, and now I'm doin' it to you. And it's... it ain't right."
You scanned his face, your resolve crumbling when you saw the sincerity behind his eyes.
"It's okay," you finally said, your voice sounding so small from underneath the plush comforter.
He shook his head. "No, it ain't."
"No, but I forgive you, anyway."
He finally dragged his eyes up to meet yours and smiled. "Thank you, darlin'."
You sighed and readjusted a bit under the covers. "I'm sorry, too."
"Nothin' for you to be sorry for."
"I got too drunk and embarrassed you. It won't happen again."
He scoffed and gave you a look of disbelief. "Half the people on this boat got just as drunk as you. These people are borderline alcoholics," he said, making you giggle a little. He grinned, his heart soaring when he heard the sound. "None of 'em probably even remember we went to dinner."
You laughed a little louder at that and he joined in with a chuckle under his breath. He could feel his muscles relaxing, his nerves settling. He may have just salvaged things yet.
Joel leaned back and tucked his legs under the covers, watching the sitcom but not really absorbing anything. In the past, when he let his mind wander, it was not exactly the way he pictured being in bed with you, but it was still nice.
"Things are over with me 'n her, by the way," he said after a long, comfortable silence. Your body stiffened and you tipped your head in his direction.
"Why didn't you just tell me that to begin with?"
He grinned and shrugged. "Maybe I liked it when you got jealous."
Your cheeks flared with heat and you pulled the bedding up tighter around you.
"Asshole," you muttered. He laughed, making you smile.
"I deserved that."
He could tell when you began to drift off. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw your head tilt towards your shoulder and your perfect lips part ever so slightly. You began to snore so softly, it almost seemed fake. No one looked and sounded that beautiful when they slept. Especially after being sick. But of course, you did. He should have known.
Joel reached over and flicked the lights off, washing the room in the television's glow, then slid deeper underneath the covers. Quietly, he turned the TV off and waited until his eyes adjusted to the darkness before rolling his head to the side to look at you.
What the hell were you doing to him?
It had only been a week and he could already feel himself falling, already doing things out of character and feeling more at ease in general.
So what was one more thing?
Carefully, so as not to wake you, he inched forward and wrapped one arm around your middle, pausing to see if you would stir. When your breath remained steady and even, he got a little closer and pulled.
You took a deep breath and sighed, then rolled onto your side. He closed the remaining space between you and tucked you against his chest while snaking one arm under your pillow, the other still around your waist.
The last thing he remembered thinking was how your hair smelled like coconut and vanilla, a comforting scent he wanted to wrap himself in that was so soft and addicting, it put him right to sleep.
Please follow @punkshort-notifs and turn on notifications for fic updates ❤️
#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#joel the last of us#joel miller fanfic#joel miller tlou#joel x reader#joel x you#joel miller au#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x you#the last of us hbo#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us fic#the last of us au#swept away fic
823 notes
·
View notes
Note
hi again! so I've been meaning to send a request, but before i go about it I wish to say it's completely okay if you're not inspired by this, or if you simply don't want to write it, i would hate myself if I made you overwhelmed or smth. love you anyways 💕 so for the request: reader who's autistic. she's not very talkative nor socially active, never had a boyfriend, has one or two friends, yet somehow rafe notices her and finds her endearing. she's okay being herself with her friends, like she's funny, kind and passionate about her interests (like geek stuff, fantasy books, animals and such). she has zero flirting experience and is always dismissive towards rafe bc she doesn't think someone could like her romantically, and she's always suspicious of people bc they've wronged her in the past (in my experience as an autistic person i tend to believe everything ppl say and am kinda naive, so ppl played me or said unrealistic things and I believed them, which then is a reason for laughter, now I'm always suspicious to ppl's intentions). I'm giving you creative freedom with this, just wanted an autistic reader for once :) if you feel like writing it but need to know more abt autism, you can just post question and I'll answer in your asks, if that's okay. Just a reminder again before I go: feel free to decline this request, I know it might not be something cool to write and that's okay ☺️ love you lots, thank you for your time!
i tried my best, hope you like it 🫶🏼 and if you don't lmk so i can do better!! this was really fun since it's a compeltely new topic of inspiration. kinda left an "open" ending bc i couldn't make my mind up lmao. thank you for the resquest and sorry it took me a while to finally do it 🫂
got dreams but i can't make myself believe them - r.c
paring: rafe x autistic!reader word count: 6.9k
The party was a mistake. You knew it the moment you walked in, the thumping music and crush of people making your skin crawl. Your friends had been relentless, insisting that you needed to “get out more” and “live a little,” despite your repeated attempts to explain that “getting out” meant something different to you.
But somehow, you’d caved, and now you were standing awkwardly in the corner of a stranger’s living room, clutching your book like it was a life vest. You needed to stop letting them drag you everywhere.
It was the typical college party scene, at least the one's you'd heard or read about before. Red solo cups everywhere, groups of people huddled on couches or pressed together on the so called dance floor, and a few already-drunk guys yelling loudly in the kitchen.
This was supposed to be fun?
“Just stay for an hour,” they said. “If it’s really that bad, you can leave.”
Right. Except an hour felt like an eternity when you were trapped in a sensory nightmare. You took a deep breath, scanning the crowded room. There were people everywhere—laughing, dancing, chattering loudly in clumps—and the noise was a constant, overwhelming buzz in your ears.
This was definitely a mistake.
So, you did what you always did in these situations: you found a place to hide. After walking through the drunk college students, you eventually ended up on quiet nook near the back of the house. It was a small room, probably some sort of den or study. Blessedly, it was empty. With a sigh of relief, you settled into an oversized armchair, opened your book, and let the world outside your pages melt away.
Time slipped by as you read, the noise of the party changing into a distant hum. You were so engrossed that you didn’t even notice when someone stumbled into the room until a loud crash jolted you out of your fictional word. He nearly tripped over his own feet, catching himself at the last second with a slurred, “Shit.”
You looked up to find a guy standing unsteadily in the doorway, blinking blearily at you. He was tall, with tousled hair and a loose, easy grin that spoke of far too many drinks. His eyes were a striking blue even in the low light, and it took you a second to place him.
Rafe Cameron.
Oh, God. You knew him—well, of him, at least. He was in your sociology class, always sitting a few rows behind you with his gaggle of equally charming friends. He’d never spoken to you before, though, and you’d never had a reason to pay him much attention.
Until now.
Then his face split into a lazy grin, and he swaggered—no, stumbled—into the room, somehow managing to make even that look effortless.
“Heyyy,” he drawled, leaning heavily against the arm of the chair across from you. “It’s… it’s you.”
You blinked at him. “Me?”
“Yeah,” he slurred, squinting like he was trying to see you clearly. “T-The girl from my class. The quiet one.”
Your stomach did a weird flip, part confusion, part disbelief. “Okay?”
“Yeah.” He nodded sagely, as if you’d just confirmed some great truth. “You’re the uh, the smart one. With the books.” He gestured vaguely at the one in your hands. “Always sittin’ up front, all… all cute n'shit.”
Your cheeks burned. Was he seriously calling you cute? No. He was drunk—really drunk. He probably didn’t even know what he was saying.
“Do you need help?” you asked cautiously. “You look—”
“I’m fine,” he cut you off, straightening up as if to prove it, though the effect was somewhat ruined by the way he swayed on his feet. “Needed to get away from those idiots out there. Too many people.”
You almost laughed. Rafe Cameron, overwhelmed by people? The guy who was always surrounded by friends, girls practically draped over him like accessories? But he looked sincere—well, as sincere as a drunk person could look.
“Why don’t you sit down?” you suggested, gesturing to the empty chair. “You, um, might fall over if you don’t.”
“Pfft, I’m not gonna—” He paused mid-sentence, wobbling precariously. Then, as if he’d just made the smartest decision of his life, he plopped down in the chair, sprawling out like he owned the place.
“See? Told ya m'fine,” he said, flashing you a lopsided grin.
You couldn’t help but snort. “Right.”
He looked at you then, really looked at you, his gaze roaming over your face “What’re you doin’ here?” he asked abruptly.
You glanced at your book, then back at him. "Reading?”
“No, I mean… here,” he insisted, gesturing vaguely around the room. “At this shitty party.”
You shrugged, feeling awkward. “My friends dragged me. I didn’t really want to come.”
Rafe’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully, and for a moment, he looked almost sober. “Yeah, same.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
He smirked, a flash of the cocky, arrogant guy you’d seen in class. “Yeah, well… they’re fucking assholes, but they’re my assholes, y'know?”
You didn’t, but you nodded anyway. “Sure.”
“So, what’s that book about?”
You hesitated. “Um… it’s a fantasy novel.”
“Fantasy, huh?” He tilted his head, eyeing the cover. “Like wizards and dragons n'shit?”
“Sort of,” you admitted. “It’s about a girl who finds out she has magic and goes on a quest to—”
“Save the world?” he finished with a mock-solemn expression.
“...Yeah,” you said, narrowing your eyes. “But it’s more complicated than that.”
“Bet it is,” he murmured, his gaze still fixed on you. “You’re really into that stuff, huh?”
You shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah. Why?”
He shrugged, his smirk softening into something that almost looked like genuine interest. “You looked happy, talkin’ about it.”
Your heart did another weird little flip, and you frowned, pushing the feeling down. He was drunk. This didn’t mean anything. He probably wouldn’t even remember it in the morning.
But then, his eyes drifted shut, his head lolling back against the chair. Within seconds, he was snoring. You sat there, stunned.
What the hell had just happened?
Three days later, you were sitting in your usual spot in the lecture hall, flipping through your notes. Class was about to start, and the room was filling up with the usual pre-lecture chatter. You were just getting settled when someone slid into the seat beside you.
You glanced up, expecting one of your friends. But it wasn’t.
It was Rafe.
“Hey, friend,” he said casually, like you hadn’t left him passed out at a party a few nights ago.
You stared at him, completely disoriented. “Hi?”
He grinned, leaning back in his chair like this was completely normal. “Didn’t think I’d forget about you, huh?”
Your eyes narrowed. “I… yeah, actually.”
Rafe’s grin widened, and he leaned in closer, “See, that’s where you’re wrong, princess,” he murmured. “I remember everything.”
Did he just give you a nickname?
Your stomach dropped. “What?”
“Yeah.” He crossed his arms, looking entirely too smug. “You, sitting there all cute with your book, talking about magic and shit. Thought I was too drunk to remember, huh?”
“I—” You stared at him, completely off balance. “Why are you here?”
“Because I want to be,” he said simply. “Got a problem with that?”
You blinked, caught off guard. “No?”
“Good.” He flashed you a grin, all cocky charm. “So, you gonna tell me more about that book, or what?”
You gaped at him. “You actually want to hear about it?”
“Why not?” he shot back, raising an eyebrow. “It made you smile.”
And for some reason, that simple statement knocked the breath out of you.
“Okay,” you said, still unsure if this was some kind of elaborate prank.
But Rafe just leaned back in his seat, eyes fixed on you like you were the most fascinating thing in the world.
“Yeah,” he murmured. “I think I’ll stick around.”
The next few classes were…weird, to say the least. Ever since Rafe decided you were his new "friend," he’d taken to sitting beside you every lecture, plopping down in the empty seat as if he’d been there all along. It was confusing. Most of the time, he’d breeze in at the last possible minute, sauntering up to your row without so much as a greeting and settling into the chair with that infuriatingly self-assured smirk.
You were already seated, your notebook open and your pen poised to start taking notes when he dropped into the seat beside you with his usual nonchalance. He stretched his long legs out in front of him, casting you a sidelong look as if daring you to acknowledge him first.
“Hi,” you said quietly, eyes flicking back to the front of the room.
“Hey, princess,” he replied, voice low and teasing.
You kept your gaze firmly on your notebook. You’d quickly learned that the best way to deal with him was to pretend his presence didn’t affect you—no matter how much his proximity messed with you.
He’d spent the last three classes nudging your foot under the desk, passing snide comments under his breath, or leaning over just close enough to murmur sarcastic observations about whatever the professor was droning on about. And today was no different.
The lecture started, Professor Callahan launching into her usual detailed overview of sociological theory. You tried to focus, pen flying across your notebook as you jotted down her points.
“Is she always this boring?” he whispered, leaning in slightly so his arm brushed against yours.
You stiffened, eyes fixed on your notes. “If you listened, it wouldn’t be so boring.”
He snorted. “Yeah, right. Like I’m gonna waste my time listening to her go on about… what is it today? Class structure?”
“Yes,” you hissed, refusing to look at him. “And if you don’t stop talking, I’m going to—”
“You’re going to what?” he challenged, his grin audible in his voice.
You snapped your mouth shut, trying to ignore the way his leg brushed against yours under the desk. He was doing it on purpose—nudging your knee every so often, shifting just a little closer until the faint scent of his cologne surrounded you. It was infuriating. And yet, when you glanced sideways at him, he was looking at you with that maddening, lazy grin that made your heart stutter.
“Just pay attention,” you mumbled, cheeks warm.
“Why would I do that when I have such a pretty view right here?”
Your head whipped around, eyes wide. “What?”
But Rafe just smirked, his gaze drifting lazily up and down your face before flicking back to the front of the room as if he hadn’t just made your brain short-circuit.
“Relax, princess. Just messin' with you.”
You swallowed, trying to refocus on the lecture. His attention was like a physical thing—intense and all-consuming. It made you uneasy.
Determined not to give him the satisfaction, you forced yourself to look at the professor, tuning out the heat of Rafe’s gaze. Professor Callahan was in the middle of explaining something about social hierarchies when she suddenly stopped mid-sentence.
“Mr. Cameron.”
The entire class fell silent.
You looked up, eyes widening in surprise as Professor Callahan fixed Rafe with a stern look. “I’m aware that I’m not as pretty as your classmate,” she said dryly, gesturing toward you, “but I would appreciate it if you could pay attention for at least ten minutes.”
A ripple of snickers spread through the room, and your cheeks flamed scarlet. Rafe, however, didn’t even blink, he was completely unruffled and offered the professor a lazy, arrogant smile. “Sorry, Professor. Just got a little distracted.”
Your stomach dropped. He was staring at you, unabashedly.
The professor raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure.” Her tone was dry, unimpressed. “Would you mind keeping your distractions to yourself until after class?”
Another murmur of laughter swept through the room, and you shrank in your seat, mortified. His smirk widened, but he leaned back in his chair, raising his hands in mock surrender.
“Of course, ma’am,” he drawled. “No more distractions.”
Professor Callahan gave him a pointed look, then turned back to the board, resuming her lecture. You sat there, face burning, refusing to look anywhere near Rafe, but you could feel his eyes on you.
“Guess I got you in trouble, huh?” he whispered, leaning closer.
You grit your teeth, still staring resolutely at the front of the room. “Stop talking.”
“Can’t help it,” he murmured, his voice teasing. “You’re way more interesting than this shit.”
“Rafe, I swear—”
“Okay, okay, I’ll behave,” he said lightly, sitting back. But he didn’t take his eyes off you. You could feel him lingering, warm and intent, and you wanted to scream. How was he so calm? So unaffected, like getting called out by the professor was just a minor inconvenience?
You hated every second of it.
“Rafe,” you hissed under your breath, finally daring to glance at him. “Will you just—”
“What?” He leaned in again, eyes bright with mischief. “You want me to go back to ignoring you?”
“Stop staring.”
He hummed thoughtfully. “Can’t promise that, princess.”
Your heart hammered, and you squeezed your pen so tightly it nearly snapped. “Why are you even here?”
He shrugged, his expression turning oddly serious. “I like sitting next to you.”
Rafe Cameron—the arrogant, cocky asshole you’d written off as nothing more than a nuisance—had just chosen to stay by your side.
As soon as class ended, you gathered your things in record time, heart still thumping wildly. The room buzzed with students shuffling out, but you kept your head down, hoping to slip away unnoticed.
Maybe if you were quick enough, you could escape before he decided to make good on his new, annoying habit of sticking to you like glue. But, of course, he was nothing if not persistent.
You’d barely slung your bag over your shoulder when he appeared at your side, his tall frame looming over you as he fell into step like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Heading to lunch?” he asked, all casual charm, as if he hadn’t just spent the entire class making you the center of unwanted attention.
“Yes?” You tried not to sound as thrown as you felt, but the way he looked at you—with that infuriatingly lazy grin—told you he could see right through you.
“Cool. I’m starving.” He said it like it was an invitation, like he was entitled to follow you, and before you could muster up a half-hearted protest, he was already steering you through the crowded hallway.
“Wait, what are you doing?” you demanded, glancing around in panic. People were staring, eyes widening as they took in the sight of Rafe Cameron, of all people, trailing after you. Whispers flitted through the air, curious and disbelieving, and you shrank under the scrutiny, feeling painfully exposed.
“Uh, going to lunch with you?” He made it sound so obvious, his voice lilting with amusement.
“I didn’t invite you!” You glanced at him, trying to tamp down the fluttery, nervous feeling his presence always seemed to stir up. “What if I’m eating with someone else?”
He shrugged. “Then I’ll eat with them too.”
You gawked at him. “What?”
But Rafe just flashed you that cocky, confident grin. “Relax. It’s just lunch.”
Just lunch, he said, like this wasn’t completely absurd.
You narrowed your eyes, debating whether to make a break for it, but he was already steering you toward the main quad, his hand ghosting the small of your back in a way that made your skin tingle.
Your heart hammered as the familiar outdoor seating area came into view. Your friends were already there, sitting at your usual table—a small group of two girls and a guy, all talking animatedly. You hadn’t even sat down yet, and they still managed to look up as one, their expressions morphing from curious to shocked when they caught sight of you—and Rafe—heading straight toward them.
“Uh, hey,” you greeted awkwardly as you approached. They just stared, mouths agape.
Emily was the first to recover. “What the—since when do you two know each other?” she asked, eyes darting between you and Rafe like she was seeing some kind of glitch in the matrix.
“Yeah, what’s going on here?” Max, the guy in your small circle, chimed in, his gaze flicking to Rafe warily. “Is this, like… a project thing?”
“No, it’s not—” you started, but Rafe cut you off with a breezy smile.
“Can’t believe y’all kept her to yourselves this whole time,” he drawled, pulling out the chair beside yours and plopping down like he’d done it a thousand times before. “Thought you’d have the decency to introduce me to the most interesting girl on campus.”
Your friends gaped, eyes wide with shock. You could practically see their brains short-circuiting. Meanwhile, you were fighting the urge to smack him upside the head.
“Please shut up,” you muttered under your breath, cheeks burning.
But he just smirked, his gaze sliding over your stunned friends with lazy amusement. “What?” he said innocently. “It’s true.”
“What the hell is happening right now?” Emily demanded, still staring at you like you’d grown a second head. “You—you and Rafe Cameron?”
You sighed, already regretting every life choice that had led you to this moment. “There is no ‘me and Rafe Cameron.’ He just—he’s being annoying.”
“Annoying?” he repeated, feigning offense. “C’mon. I thought we were past that.”
“We are not past anything,” you snapped, shooting him a glare. But that only seemed to amuse him more.
“Okay, back up,” Max interjected, brow furrowed in confusion. “How do you guys even know each other?”
“Uh, sociology class?” you offered weakly, as if that explained anything. “He’s been sitting next to me.”
“Sitting next to you?” Emily repeated slowly, like she was trying to process a particularly difficult equation. “And now you’re… eating lunch together?”
“It’s not—” You looked helplessly at Rafe, who was watching the exchange with that insufferable smirk. “I didn’t ask him to.”
He looked completely unfazed by the mess he’d caused. “What can I say? I like the company.”
“Since when?” Emily shot back, clearly unconvinced.
Rafe shrugged, “Since she started talking to me.”
Your friends fell silent, eyes wide and suspicious as they turned to you, searching for answers. But you just sat there, feeling utterly, hopelessly lost. What were you supposed to say? That Rafe Cameron had decided, out of nowhere, to insert himself into your life? That he was following you to lunch like this was some sort of normal occurrence?
“Look,” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “It’s really not a big deal. He’s just—”
“Rafe Cameron is never ‘just’ anything,” Emily interrupted, folding her arms as she fixed Rafe with a suspicious look. “So what are you up to?"
“Nothing,” Rafe said easily, his smile all sharp edges. “Like I said, I’m just getting to know her.”
“Getting to know her,” Max echoed, clearly skeptical.
“Yeah.” Rafe’s eyes never left yours, his eyes gleaming with something that made your pulse flutter. “What’s so weird about that?”
Your friends exchanged looks. You didn’t blame them. This was weird. More than weird. You’d never been the kind of girl to attract attention—especially not from someone like Rafe. Popular, arrogant, and completely out of your league in every possible way. And yet, here he was, acting like sitting with you at lunch was the most natural thing in the world.
“So,” He said suddenly, turning his attention back to the group, “Are you gonna sit here gaping all day, or are we gonna eat?”
Emily blinked, snapping out of her daze. “Uh, yeah, we’re… we’re eating.”
“Good.” Rafe turned to you, eyebrow raised. “You eating, princess?”
You stared at him, “I—yes?”
“Cool. Want me to grab you something?”
You stared at him, incredulous. “You’re offering to get me lunch?”
He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I am. Now, what do you want?”
“I—” You swallowed, glancing at your friends, who were watching the exchange like it was some sort of bizarre performance. “Um, a sandwich?”
“Got it.” Rafe pushed to his feet, his smile smug. “Be right back.”
And then, to your utter disbelief, he sauntered off toward the food line, leaving you and your friends staring after him.
“What,” Max said slowly, “the hell just happened?”
You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “I have no idea.”
The awkward lunch with Rafe didn’t end as badly as you expected.
Your friends had spent the entire time shooting you confused, bewildered looks, while he seemed to thrive under their scrutiny, lounging beside you like he belonged. He didn’t flirt—thank God—but he didn’t exactly tone down his usual cocky self either. By the end of it, he’d somehow managed to charm your friends just enough to leave them confused rather than outright hostile. Still, after that lunch, you’d expected him to lose interest, to move on to his usual crowd and forget all about his bizarre little experiment. But of course, he wasn’t known for playing by the rules.
You learned that the hard way two days later.
It was late afternoon, and you were holed up in the campus library, buried under a mountain of textbooks and notes for an upcoming exam. The library was your sanctuary—quiet, calm, and blissfully free of distractions. At least, until Rafe sauntered in. You didn’t notice him at first, too absorbed in your notes. The library was busy, students murmuring as they worked, the rustle of pages and the faint clack of keyboards filling the air. You were hunched over a particularly dense passage in your sociology textbook when you felt it—
You stiffened, glancing up cautiously, and there he was.
He leaned against the bookshelf a few feet away, his eyes fixed on you with a lazy, assessing look. He didn’t move, just watched you, his lips quirking in that infuriating smirk when your eyes met.
“What are you doing here?” you hissed, glancing around nervously. No one seemed to be paying attention, but you still felt like the entire room was suddenly staring.
“Studying,” he said, straight-faced.
“Since when do you study in the library?”
“Since now,” he said easily, pushing off the bookshelf and strolling over to your table. He pulled out the chair across from you, dropping into it like he had every right to be there. “What? Can’t a guy broaden his horizons?”
You stared at him, incredulous. “You’re joking.”
“Not today, princess.” He leaned forward, resting his chin in his hand as he peered at your open book. “So, what’re we learning?”
“We are not learning anything,” you muttered, eyes narrowing. “I’m studying. You are… I don’t know what you’re doing.”
“Keeping you company,” he said simply. “You looked lonely.”
Your mouth fell open. “Lonely?”
“Yeah.” He tilted his head, his gaze sweeping over your face. “All holed up in here with your books. Thought I’d help.”
What was he even talking about? This was insane. He didn’t just hang out in the library, especially not to “keep someone company.” He was the kind of guy who spent his free time at parties, or on the field, or wherever people like him thrived. And yet, here he was, sitting across from you in the library like this was normal.
“Rafe,” you said slowly, “you don’t even know what I’m studying.”
He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”
“It does if you’re trying to help,” you shot back, frustration seeping into your voice. “You’re—what are you even—”
“Okay, okay,” he interrupted, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Calm down. Just trying to see what’s got you all riled up.”
You bit back a groan, rubbing your temples. This was absurd. You didn’t need—didn’t want—his attention.
“Fine,” you muttered, turning your textbook around so he could see the page. “I’m going over Durkheim’s theory of social integration.”
Rafe leaned in, squinting at the page. “Durkheim, huh?”
“Yes,” you said, a little impatiently. “He believed that society functions through a collective conscience—shared beliefs and values that bind people together.”
“Sounds boring as hell,” Rafe said bluntly.
“It’s not boring,” you retorted before you could stop yourself. “It’s actually really interesting—he argued that a lack of social integration could lead to anomie, a state of normlessness that causes people to feel disconnected and isolated.”
Rafe stared at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. At least it felt that way to you.
“What?” you demanded, suddenly self-conscious. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
He shrugged, a strange, thoughtful smile tugging at his lips. “Just… you get really into this stuff, don’t you?”
Your cheeks flushed. “It’s sociology. It’s important.”
“Yeah, but…” He shook his head, “It’s kinda cute.”
You blinked, your brain short-circuiting. “Cute?”
“Yeah.” He leaned back, crossing his arms as he regarded you with a casual, easy confidence that made your heart flutter. “You get all intense when you talk about it. Like, you actually care.”
“I—I do care,” you stammered, “It’s my major.”
“I know,” he murmured. “I like that about you.”
What—what was that supposed to mean? Why was he looking at you like that, like he actually meant it?
Before you could even begin to untangle your thoughts, a shadow fell over the table, and you glanced up to see another student standing there—a tall, lanky guy with dark hair and glasses. He looked vaguely familiar, probably from one of your classes.
“Uh, hey,” the guy said awkwardly, glancing between you and Rafe. “Are—are you using this seat?”
Rafe’s expression changed instantly, “Yeah,” he said flatly. “We are.”
The guy blinked, taken aback. “Oh, uh, sorry, I just—”
“You just can find another table,” Rafe cut in, “We’re a little busy here.”
You gaped at him, mortified. “Rafe, stop.”
But he didn’t even glance at you. He just kept staring down the poor guy, his posture tense and unyielding until, with a muttered apology, the student backed off, scurrying away like he’d just had a close encounter with a predator.
“What the hell was that?” you hissed as soon as the guy was out of earshot. “He just wanted to sit down!”
“Yeah, and we’re studying,” Rafe said dismissively. “No room for distractions.”
“We’re not studying anything!” you shot back, resisting the urge to smack him. “You’re just sitting here, being—being weird.”
“Not weird,” he corrected, leaning in again. “Protective.”
You froze, your mouth going dry. “Protective?”
“Yeah.” His eyes were dark, intense, locking onto yours. “Can’t have just anyone bothering you, can I?”
After the bizarre encounter in the library, you were convinced Rafe would drop this whole… whatever it was. Surely, following you to lunch and then “protecting” you in the library was enough.
So when you found yourself at another party two nights later—dragged along by Emily despite your vehement protests—you knew it was only a matter of time before he found you. Because somehow, no matter where you went, Rafe had made it his mission to seek you out.
“Come on, you need to have some fun,” Emily had insisted, half-pulling, half-dragging you through the front door of one of the fraternity houses on campus. The music was already blaring, the heavy bass vibrating through your body. People were packed in the main room, laughing, talking, drinking, the buzz of chatter filling the air.
“This isn’t my idea of fun,” you muttered, hugging your arms around yourself as you tried to avoid brushing against the partygoers. It wasn’t that you disliked parties, exactly—it was just that the noise, the sheer volume of people could get overwhelming quickly.
“Just stay for an hour,” Emily pleaded. “Please? I swear it’ll be more fun than you think. We can dance, have a few drinks—”
“I don’t dance,” you cut in flatly, giving her a pointed look.
“Okay, fine, I’ll dance, and you… can hang out and people-watch,” she amended, undeterred. “Besides, who knows? Maybe you’ll meet someone.”
You gave her a withering stare. “Yeah, because I’m such a social butterfly.”
You sighed, resigned to your fate, and began making your way through the press of bodies. After a few minutes you managed to find a relatively quiet corner in the back, near the stairs, and gratefully leaned against the wall. Maybe if you stayed out of sight long enough, Emily would give up on trying to get you to socialize and let you leave early. It was a long shot, but you could hope.
You hadn’t been there long when you felt it—the now-familiar prickling sensation of someone’s gaze lingering on you. Sure enough, when you glanced up, there he was.
Rafe, in all his infuriating glory, leaning against the wall a few feet away, his eyes locked on you with that lazy focus that made your heart stutter. He looked unfairly good, dressed in a dark button-up that clung to his frame in all the right ways, his hair tousled just enough to look effortlessly cool. And, as usual, he was watching you like you were the only person in the room.
You narrowed your eyes at him, your stomach twisting in irritation and something else. “Are you stalking me now?” you demanded, crossing your arms as you glared at him.
Rafe’s lips curved into a slow, teasing smile. “Would it be so bad if I was?”
“Yes,” you said flatly. “It would be very bad.”
He chuckled, the sound low, sending an unwelcome shiver down your spine. “Relax, princess. I just saw you standing here all alone and thought I’d come say hi.”
“Hi,” you muttered, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “Now you can leave.”
But he didn’t budge. Instead, he straightened, pushing off the wall and closing the distance between you in a few long strides until he was standing directly in front of you, his presence overwhelming.
You tried to step back, but the wall blocked your escape.
“Actually, I was thinking we could, I don’t know, hang out for a bit?” he suggested, tilting his head as he regarded you with a faux-innocent smile.
“Why?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.
Rafe blinked, seemingly taken aback by the question. “Why?”
“Yes,” you insisted, frustration bubbling up inside you. “Why do you keep… doing this? Showing up, sitting with me, following me to lunch, acting like—like we’re friends or something. What is your deal, Cameron?”
Slowly he reached up, bracing one hand on the wall beside your head, leaning in so close you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin.
“My deal,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth, “is that I like you.”
No. No, no, no.
That couldn’t be right. People didn't just like you. They tolerated you, maybe, or found you useful sometimes, but they didn't like you. Not like that. Not in the way he was implying. You felt panic rising in your chest, like a wave that was too big to stop. You couldn’t stop it.
“You’re lying,” you said shakily, shaking your head in disbelief. “You’re just—this is some kind of game, isn’t it? Some—some bet, or—”
Rafe’s expression tightened, his jaw clenching. “It’s not a game,” he ground out, his eyes flashing. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”
You swallowed hard, your chest aching. No, this couldn’t be happening. This didn’t make sense.
“I don’t believe you,” you shook your head stubbornly.
His eyes narrowed, “No?”
“No,” you repeated, crossing your arms defiantly. “You’re just… you. You can’t just decide you like me out of nowhere.”
“I didn’t decide,” he murmured, “It just happened.”
Your breath hitched, your heart racing. Why was he doing this to you? Why couldn’t he just leave you alone?
“I—” You broke off, struggling to find words, but before you could answer, a loud voice interrupted.
“Yo, Rafe! There you are, man!”
You both jerked back, startled, and you glanced over to see one of Rafe’s friends—Topper, if you remembered correctly—stumbling over, a wide grin plastered across his face.
“What are you doing back here?” Topper slurred, his gaze sliding to you. He blinked, “Who’s this?”
Rafe stepped in front of you slightly, his posture tense and protective. “Doesn’t matter,” he said curtly, “Go find someone else to bother.”
Topper blinked, taken aback. “Whoa, man, chill. I was just—”
“Go,” Rafe repeated, his tone brooking no argument.
Topper stared at him for a long moment, then slowly backed off, muttering under his breath as he disappeared into the crowd. As soon as he was gone, Rafe turned back to you, his eyes softening again.
“Sorry about that,” he murmured, “Didn’t mean to—”
“Why did you do that?” you cut in, your heart still pounding.
Rafe frowned. “Do what?”
“Get rid of him,” you said, shaking your head in confusion. “He was your friend. Why would you—”
Maybe you’d misread him. Maybe he didn’t actually mean any of what he said. He was probably just bored, looking for some amusement—another toy to play with for a little while.
“I wanted to talk to you. Not him.”
You blinked, bewildered. “But he’s your friend.”
He gave a half-hearted shrug. “So? Doesn’t mean I want him interrupting us.”
Us. Like there was an “us.” Like there could ever be an “us.”
You shook your head, trying to clear the fog of confusion. “But I don’t understand,” you mumbled. “I don’t get it. You don’t even know me.”
“I know enough,” he said quietly, his eyes holding yours in a way that made it hard to breathe. “More than you think.”
You frowned. It was impossible to shake the nagging feeling that he was just… playing with you. That this was all some sick joke and at any moment, the punchline would hit, and you’d be the idiot.
“You’re just messing with me,” you muttered, taking a small step back to put some space between you. “You’re bored or something.”
“I’m not bored,” he said firmly, stepping forward to close the gap you’d just created. “I told you, I wouldn’t do that.”
“I didn’t ask for any of this. You’ve been following me around, showing up where I am, saying all these things like—like we’re something, but we’re not.”
Rafe stepped closer, his eyes narrowing as he looked at you, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “What are you talking about? You really think I’m just messing around?”
“Yes!” you practically shouted, throwing your hands up. “Yes, I do! Why else would you be doing this? You’re Rafe Cameron, for god’s sake. You don’t even like me. This is just some twisted game to you, isn’t it?”
You stared at him, trying to read his face, trying to find any hint of dishonesty, any sign that this was all an act. But all you saw was that same intensity, that same focus, like you were the only person who mattered.
Your chest tightened, panic grazing at you. This wasn’t right. It couldn’t be. People didn’t just… like you. They didn’t seek you out at parties or show up in libraries to talk about sociology. Guys like Rafe didn’t choose people like you. There had to be some ulterior motive.
“You show up out of nowhere, act like I’m some project, some… someone who needs your protection—why, Rafe? Because I don’t fit into your world? Because I’m some joke to you and your friends?”
“That’s not it,” He growled, his voice defensive. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I don’t know what I’m talking about?” you scoffed, shaking your head. “You haven’t been honest about anything. You haven’t given me a reason to believe any of this.”
“You think I’m lying?
You moved your head again, harder this time. “That doesn’t make sense. You’re—you’re saying things that don’t make sense. I don’t understand.”
He took a slow, poising breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "What doesn't make sense to you?"
"All of this," you replied, your voice quivering with frustration, "You, acting like you—like you actually care. Like you see me. People don’t just do that, not for someone like me. I don’t—" You cut yourself off, not sure how to finish the sentence, your thoughts spiraling.
It wasn’t just that you couldn’t believe him; it was that you didn’t know how to believe him. Your experiences had taught you to be wary, to always look for the catch, because there always was one.
Always.
Rafe's brows drawn together in something that almost looked like concern. "Someone like you?" he repeated, "What does that even mean?"
You swallowed, feeling your insecurities gripping down on your chest. "It means I’m not… like you. I don’t know how to talk to people, I don’t get things right all the time. People don’t notice me, and when they do, it’s usually because I’ve done something wrong, or because they want something from me. That’s just how it is."
He shook his head slowly. "That’s not how I see you."
You opened your mouth to argue, to say something—anything—to dismiss what he was saying, to protect yourself from the disappointment that was sure to come. But Rafe didn’t give you the chance.
"You think I’m messing with you because you’re not like everyone else? Is that it? You think I’m playing some kind of game because you don’t fit into some stupid idea of who’s supposed to matter?"
You wanted to pull away, to recoil into the safety of your doubts, but something in his voice, in the way he was looking at you, made you stop.
"I’m not going to pretend like I know everything about you," Rafe continued, no less serious. "But I know enough to know that I’m not bored. I don’t care if you don’t fit in with my world, or whatever you think that means. I like that you’re passionate about the things you care about. I like that you don’t put up with anyone’s shit—not even mine." A small, almost self-deprecating smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "I’ve spent enough time around fake people to know the difference."
You weren’t used to this—this kind of sincerity. It felt too real. And part of you still wanted to push it away, to reject it before it had a chance to hurt you. But another part of you—a much smaller, quieter part—was whispering that maybe he meant it.
"Why me?"
"Because you're you," he said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
For a long, breathless moment, the two of you just stood there, the noise of the party fading into the background. Your mind was still processing everything, but there was something in the way he was looking at you, something that made you feel—just for a second—like maybe you could trust this.
You shook your head, "I’m not… I’m not good at this," you admitted, your voice uncertain. "At understanding what people mean, or knowing if they’re being serious or not. I don’t know how to read you."
Rafe’s eyes softened even more at your confession, and he took a deep breath, like he was trying to figure out how to make you believe him. "I get that," he said quietly. "And I’m not always great at this either. But I’m serious. I wouldn’t lie to you, especially not about this."
You wanted to believe him. More than anything, you wanted to believe him. But there was still that tiny voice of doubt in the back of your mind, reminding you of all the times you’d been wrong before, of all the times you’d trusted someone only to be let down.
You hesitated, your throat tight. "I don’t know if I can."
He didn’t push, didn’t demand anything from you. Instead, he just nodded slowly.
"That’s okay. You don’t have to believe me right now. But I’ll be here when you’re ready."
And with that, he stepped back, giving you the space you so desperately needed. He didn’t try to force anything, didn’t press for more. Instead, he just gave you a small, almost hopeful smile and turned, disappearing back into the crowd.
And as you stood there, your heart still pummeling into your ribs, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d been wrong about him after all.
#rafe cameron#rafe#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron imagines#rafe x y/n#rafe x you#rafe x reader#rafe imagine#rafe outer banks#rafe one shot#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron fanfiction#obx x reader#rafe cameron angst#rafe obx#rafe fic#obx fic#rafe cameron au#itneverendshere works✨#requested#rafe cameron concepts#rafe cameron one shot#outerbanks rafe#fluff#angsty
334 notes
·
View notes
Note
shocking news, The aroallo guy is here to talk abt being aroallo. everybody gasp
anyways. i wanted to explain why aroallos are so "sensitive" about our identity and place in the aspec community.
the aspec community has a sex negativity problem. this is obvious. the amount of "sex bad" takes that are boldly labelled "aspec experiences" instead of what they actually are (puritan culture) is enough to make anyone who actually experiences sexual attraction feel more than unwelcome in the aspec community.
aside from that, there's also the erasure. aromanticism is always treated as a subcategory of asexuality. there's this constant underline to every mainstream-ish discussion of aromanticism that basically comes down to the inherently aroallophobic idea that "not all aces are aro, but all aros are ace". it's not that anyone says this out loud; it's that everyone seems to imply it subtly, everyone seems to believe it without even thinking twice about it.
aside from that, there's the lack of representation. name an aromantic character. chances are, you've just named an aroace character. and even in the very very rare case of a character being canonically aromantic but not canonically asexual (e.g. carpenter from the silt verses), the fandom still treats them being asexual as canon. fandom treats aromanticism as something that must only exist within asexuality, not as its own separate identity.
our fellow aspecs spew aroallophobia at us in a misguided attempt at humor (i've gotten several asks from aroaces telling me i "should" be aroace), our posts are mistagged as asexual when we make it extremely clear they're just about being aromantic (and when we point out that we don't like that, we get called control freaks. true story), the aromantic tag is filled with posts just about asexuality, allos either call us emotional abusers and imply we objectify people by simply experiencing sexual attraction, or imply that we're just afraid of attachment and that they can "fix" us.
the absolutely jarring truth of being an aroallo on tumblr dot com is making a post about being aroallo and immediately getting ten anons telling me i'm "no better than a straight man", "an aroace in denial", "an emotionally abusive predator", or just a slut, while at the same time someone comments on my post "you're making up an issue that doesn't exist" "why are you so mad about this" "you wanna be a victim so bad"
whew. okii that's all. hope that clears stuff up for non-aroallos out there /gen
what they said
#aromantic#aro#official aro post#official aromantic post#mod cale#queuepid was wrong#ask#thermodynamic-comedian
362 notes
·
View notes
Text
Me: I don't really like modern art. Kat: Did you see that Jacob Geller video? Me: I did. I didn't meant that I don't like modern art in a facscist way, just like ... I don't like it. I look at the paintings, at Rothko, and I just don't get it. Kat: A lot of it you have to see in person, I think. The pictures don't really do it justice, especially Rothko, some of those are huge, and you just stand in front of it and it's like ... as close as I've had to a religious experience. Me: I mean, I went to the Museum of Modern Art in Washington, D.C. And I went to the Tate Modern. And whatever the one in Seoul was called, and another in San Francisco, the de Young Museum. I've seen, in person, stuff from Rothko and Pollock and a bunch of the other Abstract Expressionists. Kat: That ... is a lot of modern art museums for someone who doesn't like modern art. Me: I want to like it. I hear the way people talk about it, how a Rothko evokes these emotions in them, and it's like all I can see is paint on canvas. I don't know. Like I'm blind. Kat: You're the opposite of a tortured artist. An art viewer who tortures himself. Me: It's not that. I mean, some of the stuff I really do get something from. It's not all Rothko. I don't walk into every art museum and just groan in agony. But there are this class where ... people like this stuff, and in my head I'm like "people like this stuff?" Kat: They do. I do. Me: Right, and I do believe that. But there's this part of me that's struggling against the human instinct to go "no, they're all lying for some reason, it's a game of peer pressure, or clout chasing". I think that way lies madness. I think that's a trap that people fall into all the time, because they do the typical mind thing, and they say "well if I don't like modern art, no one else must like modern art". Kat: And you're trying to correct for that by ... looking at a bunch of modern art you don't enjoy. Me: Kind of, yeah. I saw Barnett Newman's Stations of the Cross and I thought the idea of it was interesting, the journey of Christ as laid out in only a handful of brushstrokes. But the actual paintings, I just had never felt further from my fellow man than looking at them and trying to understand them. I sat and tried to meditate, to clear my mind, to let some thought come to me, but it was still just paint on canvas. Kat: And you're what, just going to keep going to modern art museums? Me: If I'm in a city with one, sure. Because sometimes there's something that speaks to me, it's just never the Abstract Expressionist stuff. Kat: I cannot imagine doing that, repeatedly viewing something in a genre you don't like. Is it because it's high status? Because you're clout chasing? Me: I don't think so. I think it's just alien to me, no matter how many reviews I've read extolling the works, how many people have explained these individual pieces. And you know, when we went to the one in D.C., we had our son with us, and he was looking at all this stuff too, and when we went out I asked him which was his favorite. He said it was one of the Pollocks, Lavender Mist. Kat: Cute. See, the kid gets it. Me: I asked him what he liked about it, and he said to me, "you can see the drips". Kat: Sometimes that's all there is to it.
282 notes
·
View notes
Text
Steve wakes up to a beeping noise- a heart monitor. He struggles to open his eyes, turning to squint around the hospital room. Something about it feels off, though he can’t tell what.
A woman stumbles in, almost spilling her coffee. She looks familiar.
“Hey,” Steve tries, only to end up coughing. His throat is painfully dry.
“Steve!” She exclaims. She hurries over, swapping the coffee for a plastic cup of water. She carefully holds it to his mouth for him to drink. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you awake! I know we can’t talk here but… fuck, man, you really had us scared for a minute. Promise me you won’t do anything like that again!”
“I promise?”
“Oh! Eddie finally woke up too! Just the other week. He keeps asking about you, I should go-”
Steve is only more confused. There’s only one Eddie he knows and that Eddie wouldn’t be caught dead worrying about someone like Steve. Not unless...
“Munson?”
“Duh. Oh! Nancy! I was supposed to- you’re ok, right? I’ll just be a minute!”
“Yeah, sure.”
She throws him a thumbs up, darting out the room, calling for Nancy.
His head throbs. He’s not sure what is going on, what happened… maybe that thing in the Byers house did get him after all? Maybe this is just a dream.
"Ah, Mr Harrington," a nurse greets with a warm smile. "It's good to see you awake. I'm just going to check your vitals and all of that stuff, then we'll need to go over some questions. Does that sound alright?"
"Questions?"
"You've been asleep for a few weeks. We need to make sure that everything up there is ok." She lightly raps her knuckles on the side of her head.
Despite how light she's trying to be, Steve feels a sinking in his stomach.
"Is that possible? What- what could be wrong?"
"Nothing too serious. You're speech is clear and legible, you're conscious and cognitive." She lifts the clipboard off the end of the hospital bed. "You remember your name?"
"Yeah," he says. After a moment, he realizes; "oh! Right, sorry. Steve Harrington."
"Date of birth?"
"April 29th, 1967."
"Do you know what todays date is?"
"Um... how long have I been out? You said a few weeks, right?"
"Almost three weeks, yes."
"Three weeks, so that would make today... December 4th?"
She doesn't respond for a moment. The way she keeps her eyes on the clipboard feels too calculated.
"The year?"
"Uh... 1983?"
She only pauses for a moment, before continuing to ask simple questions about current events, how he's feeling, where he feels any pain or discomfort.
He lies when she asks if he remembers what caused him to be hospitalized. He's not sure what the story Nancy and Byers will give. He can't imagine people... involved, would want the truth out. And he's not willing to risk whatever consequences will come with that.
"I'm going to talk with your doctor," she finally says. "I'll be one minute."
"Wait! What- am I ok?"
"Your doctor will explain everything, don't worry."
Amnesia, his doctor explains.
Three years of his life, gone. They try to reassure him, say that it's still early days and he could completely regain his memory, no problem.
But they don't know. Not really. It's all 'possibly's, and 'maybe's. No guarentee. There's still a chance that he may never remember.
The woman who ran in when he woke up, sat by his bedside and holding his hand in a death grip, doesn't look anymore reassured by their optimism than he is.
"We're... close?" He asks her.
"Yeah," she says, forcing a smile. "Platonic soulmates. It's, um... Robin, by the way. Robin Buckley."
"Do we have that... Mrs Click, you sit behind me, right?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I did." She looks stunned, almost dazed. "I didn't think you remembered, or even noticed me."
"How could I not? You're hilarious!"
"What? We never-"
"Oh, uh, you're muttering. Behind me. It wasn't exactly, um... quiet."
"Oh my god," she slaps a hand to her mouth, eyes wide. "You heard me talk about you!"
"Yeah, like I said; you're funny."
Luckily, someone else bursts into the room, interrupting whatever epiphany Robin is having.
"Steve!" He yells.
The guy looks like a kid, barely out of middle school. But he rushes to Steve, eyeing him up like he's Steves babysitter.
"Uh, hi?"
"Oh no," is the kids response. He turns to Robin. "How much does he remember?"
"He is right here, you know."
"I think some time in 83?" Robin replies, ignoring him.
"Before or after the whole... uh..." He glances at Steve with suspicion, then pointedly to the door.
"Jesus," Steve mutters, rubbing at the crease between his brows. "Did Nancy and Jonathan tell you, or what?"
"Tell us about... what?"
He rolls his eyes at them, pointing to the kid. "Whatever has short stack paranoid. The thing with the-" he flops one hand around, raised towards the ceiling, "the lights."
"Do you remember anything that happened after that?" The kid quickly asks. "At the hospital, and Will?"
"You mean the Byers kid? Isn't he, like... dead?"
"So you... don't remember me."
"Sorry?"
"It's fine," he lies.
Steve hates how sad the kid sounds. He glances between the two of them, both seemingly wallowing quietly about the situation.
"Which room is Munson in?" He asks, breaking the silence.
"What?" The kid frowns. "Eddie? Why?"
"Which room?"
"He's two doors down to the left," Robin answers. "Why- woah! Don't get up! You're still-"
"I'm fine," Steve gently pushes her away, ignoring both of them trying to plead for him to get back into bed.
Despite the bandages, bruises and sick look to him, Munson somehow looks better than Steve remembers him looking. The longer hair definitely suits him.
"Steve?" He frowns. He tries to sit up but, grimacing, he soon stops. "What the hell are you doing up? You're gonna freak Dustin out."
"Dustin? That the kid?" He asks, grunting as he sits on the edge of his bed.
"What do-" he pauses, expressions slowly twisting with the horror and realization. "Yeah. Yeah, man, Dustin is the kid."
"Right. So... um... we're friends now?"
Eddie winces. "We haven't exactly had time to talk about... that."
"What? It's been years!"
"It's not that simple."
"Are you saying that because it's true or because you don't-"
"Because it's true," Eddie rolls his eyes. "A lot has happened since then, Steve. You fell in love with Wheeler."
"What?" Steve can't hide his confusion. "Nancy?"
"Yes, Nancy. You made sure everyone fucking knew about that."
Steve snorts, having to grab at his side with a wince. He bites the inside of his cheek to keep himself from laughing.
"So you're still easy to rile up?" He asks, smirking.
"Wh- you-" Eddie gasps. He tries to sit up again, grunting when he flops back down. "You were trying to make me jealous?!"
He's looking at Steve with disbelief, but he's also smiling.
"Are we friends now?" Steve asks.
"Yeah, Stevie. We're friends."
"Just friends?"
"I don't... Steve, how bad is your amnesia?"
Steve quickly looks away, wincing. "Not... that bad? I remember that- the first time. This, um... monster shit. Falling out with Tommy. And the doctors are optimistic- they're pretty sure I'm going to remember."
"Alright... maybe it'd be better if we talk then, instead of rushing into it now."
"Jesus," Steve frowns. "I really have missed a lot. When did you get mature?"
"Hey-"
#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie#robin buckley#platonic with a capital p#steddie fic#ficlet#hurtcomfort
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
https://www.tumblr.com/goldenboygate/748927575652515840?source=share
How about a blurb of happy tipsy/drunk Lando and reader on the boat and he's extra clingy and saying sweet funny things? Bonus points if she's caring for his bloody nose and he's looking at her with the gloomy sparkly eyes (we have all seen the pictures 👀🫣)
Note: the more content I see from this day, the more I think this is going in the books 😅
Cw: mentions a cut, blood, alcohol consumption
"Fill mine, please!", Lando asked one of the guys as he filled his own cup with some orange drink right on theme for the day.
When you said you'd join the celebrations for King's Day, Lando and Martin were the most excited for it and promised you one hell of a party indeed.
"Show me how you dance with your pretty hips! Baby, are my moves as good as yours?", Lando said as he swayed his hips from side to side, his knees helping him bounce slightly as he waved the cup around. The sunglasses didn't cover his blushed cheeks and big smile, but you were sure they were hiding your favourite pair of eyes, now probably squinty and glassy as he sang loudly.
"Yes, Lan, they're good", you shook your head as you laughed, letting him pull you closer to him so he could dance with you.
"My chest is full of love for you, baby", Lando whispered on your ear before he nipped at the skin there.
"We're out, Lando, there's other people here", you gasped even though you were enjoying his touches a little too much. Drunk Lando often meant an even clingier boyfriend.
"I don't care, I'm full of love for you - I love you!", he stated kissing your lips and everywhere on your face he could.
You turned around for a couple of minutes, approaching the edge so you could get a little bit of air and look at how everyone else was celebrating the day until you heard a gasp followed by Martin calling your name.
"What?", you asked before seeing Lando and his bloody nose, "Oh my word", you whispered as you approached him.
"We clicked the glasses and then this happened", Martin explained as you took a good look at the injury.
Even though it seemed like a little nick on the skin from the glass, it was bleeding a good amount, "Here's the first aid kit", someone said as they handed it to you.
"Does it hurt a lot, love?", you asked Lando as you rummaged through the bag to figure out what you had and what you could do with it.
"It's okay", he mumbled.
"Hold this, Lando, I need to find something to disinfect- we're in a boat full of alcohol drinks but medical grade stuff would be better I guess", you mumbled the last part, trying to read the label of the bottle and smelling them.
Once you look up after finding the rubbing alcohol and some cotton buds and pads, you see the gauze wrapped around his head, "like this, right, lovie?", Lando smiled, a genuine tinge of hope in his voice at helping you help him.
"Not quite", you laughed. You felt bad for doing so while he was clearly hurt despite not hearing many complaints from him.
"Let me put some steri strips - stay still, Lan, I need to see this upclose", you stated after cleaning the cut, applying the strips in a cross since you could see the skin was pulling both ways.
"Did you do it like an X? I felt that", Lando spoke, "X marks the spot for the treasure, doesn't it? I'm your treasure!", he cheered, "Taylor Swift says that it marks the spot where we fell apart, but we never fall apart baby, we're forever".
"You are, Lan, my biggest treasure", you smiled, "can you stay still for a bit longer though, please?", you asked gently still.
Lando complied with your request, staying still as you did your best to make sure the dressing was helping or at least not making the situation worse, "Is this your way of telling me you want me to get a rhinoplasty? Funny, it has rhino in it", he giggled before he attempted to make an elephant noise.
"No, baby, I love your nose just the way it is", you smiled, kissing the tip of his nose when you were happy with the improvised wound dressing, "there, all done! You even get a magic kiss for it to heal faster!".
"You're so pretty, you're really my girlfriend? Ah! Would you look at that, Martin? She's my girlfriend - I'm one lucky dude", Lando beamed at his friend before he kissed your lips, letting you sit on the edge of the boat, "you can sit there, baby, it's got railing to protect you from falling in the water - it's looks mucky", he made a disgusted face.
You sat there, glad to be able to experience these moments with your boyfriend and seeing his so carefree and happy. His PR team would maybe have to do some cleaning up, but at the end of the day, he was a happy young man enjoying his time off and he had the right to enjoy it.
"She is my girlfriend - Look, Y/N! Someone is recording us, say hi, my love!", he yelled, getting you to wave at a girl filming on another boat, "isn't she pretty? And she fixed my nose too!".
(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)
868 notes
·
View notes
Text
Hm. I'm rereading something I wrote, and I can't decide if it's going to be infuriating for some readers, or if there will be more going "OH, same!"
Given that my readership is largely in the Autistic 🤝ADHD vampire fan club (Vlad), I'm hoping it'll be the latter, but it's still making me hesitate because it's not how people expect sex scenes to read.
Everything's usually boiled down to a laser-focused precision of sensations and evocative, heated language -- and that does eventually happen with this. You just have to get past Vlad's brain wandering around for a bit because while Nathan's doing a good job of getting his attention in the moment, he's not being consistent, and it's giving Vlad's brain time to wander. Like noticing that Nathan squints a bit when he reads. ("(Hyperopia, Vlad’s brain supplied helpfully before he could smother it.)") Or just generally having full-on conversations in his head in the downtimes between stimulation -- and by downtime, I mean the split second it takes for Nathan to grab something from the nightstand.
Another part of me worries people will think I'm playing to stereotypes or I'm hamming it up to be "quirky," but given my brain is the epitome of the "hyper 8-year-old boy who can't sit still shiny disorder" despite being a 36yo cis woman, I've pretty much resigned myself to some people calling Vlad a stereotype anyway.
A larger part of me just... kind of really wants to see this kind of thing in a sex scene. I want to see my own thought patterns and acknowledge that even when you're getting hot and heavy with someone -- arguably an act that should consume all of your attention -- you'll still find your mind wandering. You'll notice something out the corner of your eye and go, "fucking shit, laundry, do not forget, do not forget" (and then you'll forget), or you'll be about to go down on someone, and the dick joke your friend told you three months ago will pop into your head and suddenly you're snickering with no tactful way to explain it.
(This is another thing that I always think is sorely lacking in sex scenes. No one's messy. No one's laughing like an idiot because they just thumped their head into the headboard, or a joke just popped into their head. Or someone's body made a fart sound because there's lube in places and things are thrusting. Like, maybe it's me, maybe I'm weird, but I think those are the moments you can build real romance out of. Not necessarily erotica, because those things (supposedly) aren't sexy, but there's so much emotion you can show with partners who are able to laugh with each other in those moments. You can show so much love and reverence through the mundane it hurts.)
It'd just be nice, for once, to have the character be absolved of the guilt that often happens in those moments because you're supposed to be focusing on what is happening, and your idiot brain just won't shut up.
Ultimately, it doesn't matter too much. It's a short story I'm hoping to fling out at some point (as soon as my idiot brain shuts up and lets me finish it). But it feels more important than it actually is because it feels like I'm exposing a major part of my psyche. Like pinning down all the ugly parts of my brain that can't ever actually be pinned down, no matter how much I try.
idk. Words. Things. Stuff. I'm going to try and finish this and then see what I want to do with it.
2K notes
·
View notes