#i should have edited it to say me and my BOYFRIEND

[lcvebuckley]

a recipe for disaster (and love)

written for @bucktommyfluffebruary

prompt : day 2 - cooking together | word count : 1.6k | rated : G

a little late but this prompt is the first one i've worked on and it's been in my drafts since mid-jan so i was so excited to share this!! it took a bit longer to edit cus it's my first attempt on a crack-ish fic and i'm a little skittish about it hhh also might be a little ooc for tommy but let's just pretend he can't cook 👍

enjoy! ♡

“Babe, I don’t think this is right,” the older muttered, frowning at the bowl. “How many cups of salt did you say it was? Two right?”

Silence.

“Tommy,” Evan said slowly, walking over like he was approaching a wild animal. “I said two spoons, not cups.”

Or in which Buck's cooking lesson had gone wrong.

full version below or read on ao3

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It started with a complaint. Not the typical “I’m hungry” complaint, but the kind that simmered just below the surface, coming after a long shift, a bruised shoulder, and precisely zero decent meals. Tommy had been running on caffeine and protein bars all day, the kind of combination that made him cranky enough to snap at his own reflection if it looked at him wrong.  

By the time he got back to his place, he was a walking embodiment of exhaustion and mild annoyance. Evan was already home, cheerful and relaxed, humming to himself as he moved around the kitchen with ease, a pan sizzling on the stove, the scent of garlic and something buttery filling the air.  

Tommy’s stomach growled aggressively, which he thinks was quite obvious since he noticed how the younger froze before turning around, flashing that annoyingly perfect smile—like he wasn’t out here casually committing acts of culinary excellence while Tommy was out there fighting for his life with a vending machine that ate his dollar earlier.  

“Hey, babe!” Evan greeted, wiping his hands on a dish towel, his curls slightly damp which Tommy assumed is from a recent shower. “I made dinner.” 

The older dropped his bag by the door, kicked off his shoes, and trudged over, not forgetting to lean in for a quick kiss. Having Evan to come home to has been the perfect antidote for his bad days and today was no different.

The plate Evan set down was a work of art—some kind of roasted chicken with golden, crispy skin, surrounded by perfectly seasoned vegetables. It looked like it belonged in a magazine. 

He picked up a fork, took a bite, and nearly groaned out loud. It wasn’t fair. Nothing should taste this good.  

And that’s when it happened. The words escaped before he could stop them.  

“You know,” Tommy started, casually enough to pass for nonchalant—except it wasn’t. Not even close. Evan looked up, attention snagged instantly. “I’m jealous the 118 gets to eat your cooking every day while I have to wait two days just to see you, let alone have dinner together.”

Evan blinked. Once. Twice. Then a slow grin—the kind that made Tommy’s stomach flip in that irritating, lovesick way—spread across his face like Tommy had just issued a personal challenge. 

“Oh,” Evan said, leaning against the table, arms crossed in the way that made his biceps look unnecessarily good. Tommy tried not to think about that because, apparently, his offhand comment had intrigued his boyfriend more than intended. “Is that the problem?” 

Tommy realized what was happening a second too late. He could’ve backtracked. Played it off. But no, his pride wouldn’t let him. 

“Yeah,” he muttered, stabbing another forkful like it had personally offended him. Which it kind of did in a way. “Must be nice, having a personal chef at work. Meanwhile, I’m over here with dry sandwiches and sad granola bars.”  

Evan’s grin only grew. “You could just… learn to cook, you know,” his voice was dripping with amusement, his eyebrows arching like he was already imagining the thought of Tommy cooking.

Tommy shot him a look. “Excuse me?”

“I mean, if it bothers you that much, I can teach you.” Evan’s voice was annoyingly casual, like he wasn’t shattering Tommy’s fragile ego with a single sentence. “That way you won’t miss my cooking so much when I’m not around.”  

Tommy couldn't help but to feel a little offended. “I can cook,” he protested. Sure, he wasn’t exactly Evan-level in the kitchen, but he’d made eggs and bacon before. Perfectly edible eggs and bacon. There was also that one time he tried stir-fried rice… but he preferred not to talk about that.

Evan bit down a chuckle. “I didn't say you can't,” he replied, his face morphing into that smug look Tommy secretly loved—but also knew meant he was about to get teased within an inch of his life. “I just think you’re… a little amateur.” he finished, his hands waving around as if they could make his words feel less like a stab.

Tommy’s mouth opened, then closed. He couldn't even deny it.

“Which is why I’m willing to teach you,” Evan added. “I’ve perfected my skills over the years thanks to Bobby, and I think you’ve got potential—as long as you follow my instructions,” his grin stretched wide, all gleaming teeth and overconfidence.

Tommy, of course, could never say no to Evan.

And that’s how, two nights later, he found himself standing in their kitchen, sleeves rolled up, apron on (which obviously comes from Evan’s apron collection), and he's glaring at a box of spaghetti like it owed him money.  

Evan’s so-called “lesson” started off easy enough. They were making pasta carbonara—simple ingredients, simple steps, Evan had said. Foolproof.

The younger moved around the kitchen like he belonged there, confident and effortless. He cracked eggs with one hand, diced pancetta with precise flicks of his knife, all while humming some random tune. He assigned Tommy the “easy” tasks, which felt suspicious.

“Just start boiling the pasta and mix the seasoning for the sauce. I’ll handle the pancetta,” Evan said, flashing a grin like this wasn’t a setup for failure. Well, Tommy's failure specifically.

Tommy nodded like he understood the assignment. In fairness, it sounded easy. Boil water. Season the egg mixture. No problem.

Except now the mixture looks odd and Tommy felt like he did something wrong. “Babe, I don’t think this is right,” the older muttered, frowning at the bowl. “How many cups of salt did you say it was? Two right?”  

Silence.

The kind of silence where you could hear Evan’s soul leave his body.

“Tommy,” Evan said slowly, walking over like he was approaching a wild animal. “I said two spoons, not cups.”

Tommy froze, the whisk dangling from his hand like a weapon of culinary destruction. His brain short-circuited. Embarrassed? Yes. Stupid? Extremely.

The younger burst out laughing and started wheezing as he clutched to his sides and Tommy groaned, dropping his head onto the counter in defeat. “I feel like an idiot.”

Still laughing, Evan slid behind him, wrapping his arms around the older’s waist in a warm back hug. His laughter softened as he pressed a gentle kiss to Tommy’s shoulder, resting his chin there. It was supposed to be comforting, probably. But it was distracting. Evan’s warmth pressed against him, his breath brushing against Tommy’s ear, and suddenly the bowl of regret salt mixture didn’t seem so important.

“You’re not an idiot,” Evan murmured, though his voice was still shaking with amusement. “You’re just… aggressively enthusiastic about salt.”

The older groaned louder, trying to bury his face in his hands. But Evan was relentless, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of Tommy’s neck and shoulder, his arms tightening in comfort. “You’re doing fine,” he murmured, even though he was still chuckling. “Seriously. Look at you, whisking that mixture like a pro.” 

Tommy huffed, turning slightly to glare, but the younger just smiled and stole a quick kiss, all soft and sweet like he wasn’t still laughing internally. Tommy wanted to laugh along so bad but instead he groaned, dropping his head back against Evan’s shoulder. “I'm still an idiot.”  

“You’re my favorite idiot,” Evan whispered, punctuating the words with quick kisses along Tommy’s jaw, peppering them like little apologies for laughing. “Plus, you’re way too hot to be bad at anything. It’s honestly kind of comforting that you have flaws.”  

God, Tommy felt both flustered and annoyed. He swatted at Evan’s arm half-heartedly, but the younger just laughed and kissed him again, this time lingering a little longer, soft and warm against his cheek.  

The chaos didn’t stop there. In the distraction of affectionate teasing, the pasta water boiled over dramatically, sending a hiss of steam into the air like it was personally offended by their public display of affection. Tommy panicked, knocking over the pepper grinder, which rolled off the counter dramatically like it had somewhere better to be.

Eventually, by some miracle, they salvaged the dish. Somehow.  

The carbonara wasn’t perfect. Slightly too much salt—even when they redid the egg mixture that was Tommy’s salt disaster mix, the sauce a little thicker than Evan’s usual. But it was edible. Decent even. Good enough to stop Tommy from complaining about not having Evan’s cooking every day. For now.  

They collapsed at the table, Tommy stabbing his fork into the pasta with exaggerated exhaustion. He tasted it cautiously, then nodded. “Okay. It’s not as good as yours, but it’s not terrible.” Evan also took a bite, chewing thoughtfully before smiling. “Told you. You’ve got potential.”  

“Remind me to not ever do this again,” Tommy muttered, shoving his plate aside and reaching his hands toward Evan. After the day he’d had—culinary disasters and enough salt to season an entire city block—all he wanted was to hold Evan’s hands and forget about the embarrassment.

The younger grinned, propping his chin on one hand like he wasn’t responsible for half the chaos. “One dish isn’t gonna keep your mouth shut, baby.”

Still, he reached over with his free hand, letting Tommy intertwine their fingers. His grin softened as the older absentmindedly played with his fingers, tracing the lines of his knuckles like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Tommy rolled his eyes, squeezing Evan’s hand gently. “Can’t you just cook for me?” he asked, practically begging. He even tried to do one of those wide-eyed looks Evan always pulled whenever he wanted something—big, dramatic, puppy-dog eyes. But judging by Evan’s snort, it wasn’t nearly as effective. Mental note: work on that.

The younger shrugged, casually smug. “Maybe when we’re married and I become your househusband, sure,” he said with a wink. “But for now, you’re on your own.”  

Tommy blinked, pretending to be caught off guard. He forced a laugh, but inside, his heart did a somersault. Little did Evan know, there was already a ring hidden in Tommy’s sock drawer.

Yeah, Tommy thought, stealing one more look at Evan’s soft smile, maybe not for long.

[cielsiesta]

this is so stupid

[togetherness23]

Allow me to ramble abt Night at the Museum (2006) for a bit… (I’ve had brainrot over it for abt a month now. Help.)

In one scene with the Western diorama, a running model steam engine is being used to- as the miniature cowboy, Jedediah, puts it- ‘SPLIT [LARRY’S] HEAD LIKE A WATERMELON!’. The gag of the miniatures experiencing or causing dramatic stuff to happen, only for it to not seem like much to a human’s POV, doesn’t get old for me—- and the way the engine just kinda wails (as opposed to how grandiose it sounds a second earlier) as it pokes Larry and falls over kills me. 😭

Now, any movie with trains makes it a 10/10 /j, but I was curious to see if it was an actual engine/fits the setting of the diorama. I wouldn’t call myself a history buff (not even for steam engines), but this stuff is intriguing sometimes!! Lemme see if there’s a wiki page for this—-

…aaaand now I have never felt the urge to edit a wiki as much as I do here. Thank you NATM wiki, very cool.

-> Going off of the number 4, the tender where it says EUREKA & PALISADE, and the side saying EUREKA, I’m assuming this is supposed to be a model of the Eureka & Palisade No. 4, The Eureka. It’s a 8-18 C 4-4-0 locomotive that was built in 1875, and she operated between its namesake railway’s towns. Not sure if it make sense for it to be on the transcontinental railroad (which was standard gauge) since it’s a narrow gauge engine, but this is still neat! She has a rich history way beyond her initial railway that I’m tempted to delve further into…

Also, she looks gorgeous. 🖤🤎🧡💛✨

But wait—- there’s a second engine on the opposite side of the diorama!! The Eureka model comes out of a tunnel from the left (from the viewer’s POV) on the lower track, while this one sits on the upper track and pokes out of a tunnel from the right (from the viewer’s POV). I wish I could identify it, but I can’t read anything on it to go off of. Help?

[peavhyshy]

⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ - AFRAID

ᯓᡣ𐭩 paring ─ ୨୧ ─ dark!boyfriend!rafe cameron ⋆ reader

ᯓᡣ𐭩 summary ─ ୨୧ ─ in which Rafe hatches a plan to ensure you stay by his side, by making you dependent on him.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 warnings ─ ୨୧ ─ explicit language noncon/dubcon, smut, rafe drugs reader, substance abuse, toxic relationship, emotional abuse, baby trapping/forced pregnancy, possessiveness, controlling behaviors, threats of violence, loss of virginity, corruption, breeding kink, dirty talk (like a lot), abandonment issues, manipulation, rough sex, hairpulling, fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, powerplay, choking, semi public sex, car sex, creampie (please dni if your sensitive to these topics your mental health should come first)

ᯓᡣ𐭩 wc ─ ୨୧ ─ 8,960

⋆˚✿˖° a/n ─ ୨୧ ─ is there a plot not really, it may seem long but 80% of this is smut. this is unrelated but i think his season 1 & 2 rafe hair were elite to me but I just hate buzz cuts on everyone so my opinion doesn't matter here. The ‘Lila’ is now edited I use it as a placeholder (because for some reason I hate putting y/n while writing) before I replace it with y/n but of course my dumbass forgot to do that when I published this.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔.:･Afraid･:.ೃ࿔.⋆❀°

(༝༚༝༚ lana del rey)

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── Outer Banks Masterlist ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── Navigation ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Rafe sits across from you at your usual table in the country club, his jaw clenching rhythmically as he watches you flip through the college applications. His fingers drum against the polished wooden table, creating a nervous pattern that matches his increasing anxiety. The sight of all those prestigious university names makes his stomach turn - Harvard, Yale, Princeton - each one threatening to take you further away from Outer Banks, from him. He barely touches his plate of steak, too preoccupied with the growing unease in his chest.

"Why the fuck are you even looking at schools that far?" He snaps suddenly, his voice carrying a sharp edge as he reaches across to snatch one of your fries, popping it into his mouth with more force than necessary. His blue eyes darken with barely contained irritation, especially when he catches Topper's wave from across the room. He returns it with a curt nod, his attention immediately returning to you. "You know there's perfectly good schools right here in North Carolina. UNC's got a decent program."

You glance up from your binder, your eyes meeting Rafe's intense blue ones. You set down your fork carefully on your half-eaten Caesar salad, a soft sigh escaping your lips. The sunlight streaming through the country club's windows catches on your hair, creating a halo effect around your skin. "Baby, we've talked about this," you say gently, "These schools have amazing programs for what I want to study. And it's not like I'm making any decisions yet - I'm just looking at options."

The afternoon sun streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows catches on his rings as he reaches up to run a hand through his disheveled hair, a telltale sign of his growing agitation. The country club bustles around them with the usual crowd of Kooks - women in tennis whites gossiping over martinis, men in polo shirts discussing their latest yacht purchases. But Rafe's focus remains fixed on those damned college applications, his jaw working overtime as he grinds his teeth.

The cocaine from earlier isn't helping his paranoia, making his thoughts race faster than he can process them. The idea of you leaving, of losing control over this one good thing in his life, sends a fresh wave of anxiety through his system. His free hand unconsciously reaches up to rub at his chest, a nervous tick he's developed. The country club suddenly feels too small, too confined, and he can feel his breathing getting slightly erratic. "Just... just put those away for now," he demands, trying to maintain his composure despite the rising panic in his chest. "We're supposed to be having lunch, not planning your fucking escape route."

You reach across the table with your free hand, your fingers brushing against his chest where he's rubbing anxiously. The familiar scent of his cologne mixed with something sharper - probably remnants of whatever he'd been doing before lunch - fills your nostrils as you lean closer. "Rafe, you're spiraling again," you observe quietly, mindful of the other diners around them. Your eyes flick briefly to Topper and his mother as they pass, offering a polite smile before returning your attention to your increasingly agitated boyfriend. "And you know that's not fair. I'm not trying to escape anything, especially not you."

"Besides," he continues, his tone taking on that manipulative edge he's so good at, "You really want to leave all this behind? The island, the parties, me?" He leans forward, lowering his voice to that dangerous whisper he uses when he's trying to get his way. "You know I can't follow you out there. I've got responsibilities here, the family business..." His hand shoots out to grab your wrist, not painfully, but firmly enough to make his point. "And what about us? You're going to throw away what we have for some fancy degree you could get right here?"

The weight of his intense stare makes you shift in your seat, your sundress rustling against the plush cushions. You can see the telltale signs of his growing panic - the clenched jaw, the rapid breathing, the way his fingers keep twitching against the table. Part of you wants to close the binder, to give in like you usually do when he gets like this. But another part, the part that's been dreaming about life beyond the island since you were little, keeps your hand steady on the applications. "What about a compromise?" you suggest, your voice taking on that soothing tone you learned to use when he's on edge. "What if I apply to both - some schools here in North Carolina and some out of state? That way we have options to discuss later?"

Your free hand moves from his chest to his face, your thumb gently stroking along his clenched jaw. You can feel the tension there, the way he's grinding his teeth. The chatter of the country club fades into background noise as you focus solely on him, knowing how quickly his mood can shift when he feels cornered. "And hey," you add, your voice dropping to a whisper as you lean even closer, your lips quirking into a small smile, "No matter where I end up going, you know you're the only one I want, right? These other Kook boys could never compare to my Rafe Cameron."

The familiar weight of the promise ring he gave you three months ago sits heavy on your finger, catching the light as you move. You learned over your time together that sometimes Rafe needs this - needs to be reminded that he's your choice, that you're his. Even if the possessiveness sometimes scares you, even if his mood swings leave you walking on eggshells, you can't deny the way your heart still races when he looks at you like he is now - like you're something precious he's terrified of losing. "Can we at least look through them together? You might see something you like too."

Rafe lets go of your wrist his hand shooting out to slam your binder shut with enough force to make nearby diners jump. "Don't fucking patronize me," he growls, his voice low and threatening despite their public setting. The gentle stroke of your thumb against his jaw only heightens his agitation, like a match to gasoline. "You think I don't see what this is?" He leans forward, invading your space across the table, his blue eyes wild with a mixture of possessiveness and barely contained rage. "First it's just 'looking at options,' then suddenly you're gone, probably fucking some ivy league asshole who doesn't know you like I do." His breathing becomes more erratic, the hand on his chest pressing harder as anxiety mingles with his growing anger. The familiar scent of your perfume - usually calming - now seems to mock him with its potential absence.

"You're trying to leave me, just like everyone else. Just like my mom, just like Sarah..." His voice cracks slightly on his sister's name before hardening again. "Well, I won't fucking let you."

You tense at the sudden shift in Rafe's demeanor, your heart rate picking up as you watch him slam your binder shut. The warmth drains from your eyes, replaced by a flicker of fear you try desperately to hide. Your skin prickles with goosebumps as he invades your space, his paranoia rolling off him in waves. You’ve seen him like this before, but never quite this intense, never quite this threatening in such a public place.

"Rafe, please," you whisper, your voice trembling slightly as you glance around at the other diners who are now openly staring at them. Your sundress suddenly feels too thin, too exposed under his wild-eyed gaze. You can smell the mixture of his cologne and sweat, and see the way his pupils are dilated - clear signs he's high again. "You're making a scene. Can we please just discuss this somewhere private?" 

A laugh escapes his throat at your suggestion of talking, the sound drawing more concerned glances from nearby tables. "Discuss? There's nothing to fucking discuss." His voice takes on that manipulative tone he knows works so well, mixing threat with vulnerability. "You belong here, with me. Do you think any of those places are gonna love you like I do? Understand you like I do?" His eyes flick to the promise ring on your finger, a visible reminder of his claim on you. "Or maybe that's what you want - to get away from the crazy boyfriend, right? Is that what this is about?"

The cocaine-fueled paranoia reaches a crescendo as he suddenly stands, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. He towers over you, his presence intimidating despite the public setting. "You're not going anywhere," he declares, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper as he leans down close to your ear. "And if you try, I'll make sure every single one of those fancy schools loses your application. Don't test me, baby." His lips brush against your ear as he speaks, a twisted mixture of threat and affection that's purely him. "Now get your shit. We're leaving." His hand moves to grip your upper arm, ready to pull you up from your chair, his entire body vibrating with barely contained violence and possessive need.

The promise ring feels like it's burning on your finger as tears start to well up in your eyes. "I'm not trying to leave you," you plead, your voice barely above a whisper. I'm not trying to leave you, I love you, Rafe. You know I do. But you're hurting me right now." You can feel your body starting to shake, whether from fear or adrenaline, you're not sure anymore.

You let him pull you to your feet, knowing resistance will only make things worse. Your college applications lay forgotten on the table as you stumble slightly, your legs weak from the sudden movement. "Okay," you concede, your voice small and defeated. "Okay, we can go. Just... please calm down. Please." Your free hand comes up to rest on his chest again, feeling his racing heartbeat under your palm. "Let's go to your family's place and talk about this properly. Just you and me, baby. Like we always do."

Rafe feels you trembling beneath his grip, and something in your tear-filled eyes pierces through his cocaine-addled rage. His breathing is still erratic, but the feel of your hand against his racing heart starts to ground him. The familiar scent of your perfume begins to cut through the paranoid haze, reminding him of lazy mornings in his bed, of your soft sighs against his neck. His grip on your arm loosens slightly, though he doesn't let go completely.

"Fuck," he mutters, running his free hand through his disheveled hair as reality starts seeping back in. The stares of the other country club patrons finally register, and he can feel his father's disapproval even in his absence. His jaw clenches and unclenches as he struggles to regain control. "Yeah... yeah, okay. Let's go home." His voice is still rough, but the dangerous edge has dulled somewhat. He reaches past you to grab your binder, shoving it under his arm - he's not leaving it here for you to come back to later.

The walk to his truck is tense, his hand moving from your arm to the small of your back - still possessive, but less aggressive. The cocaine is making him jittery, his thoughts racing between paranoia and guilt. Once you're inside his truck, he slams his palms against the steering wheel, making you jump. "I just..." he starts, his voice cracking slightly. "I can't lose you too, baby. I can't." His blue eyes, when they meet yours, are still wild but now tinged with desperation rather than rage. "Everyone leaves. Everyone always fucking leaves."

He reaches across the center console to pull you closer, burying his face in your neck. His breathing is still uneven, but slower now as he inhales your scent. "Stay," he whispers against your skin, his voice taking on that vulnerable quality that only you get to hear. "Just... stay with me. Please." His hand slides up to cup the back of your neck, his thumb stroking the soft skin there. It's the closest thing to an apology you’re likely to get from him, this moment of raw vulnerability between the storms of his temper.

Rafe paces anxiously across Topper's home gym, his footsteps echoing against the polished hardwood floors as sweat drips down his bare chest from their workout session. The late afternoon sun streams through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting long shadows across the expensive exercise equipment. His muscles are tense not just from lifting weights, but from the constant anxiety gnawing at his insides about your potential departure. The cocaine from earlier is still coursing through his system, making his thoughts race faster than he can process them.

"I'm telling you guys, she's fucking leaving me," he complains, running a hand through his sweat-dampened hair as he continues his relentless pacing. The familiar panic starts rising in his chest again, making him rub at it absently. "All these fucking college applications... Harvard, Yale, Princeton. She's planning her escape and I can't... I can't fucking let that happen." His blue eyes are wild as they dart between Kelce and Topper, sprawled across the leather bench press seats, watching their friend's mounting distress.

Kelce exchanges a knowing look with Topper before speaking up, his voice careful as he watches Rafe's increasingly agitated movements. "Man, you need to chill. Maybe if you weren't so fucking intense about it-" Rafe's sharp laugh cuts him off, the sound bouncing off the mirrored walls. "Intense? You think I'm being intense?" Rafe's voice rises as he spins to face them, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "My girl's trying to leave the fucking state, and you're telling me to chill?"

"Well," Topper drawls, wiping his face with a monogrammed towel, "you could always do what my cousin did when his girlfriend tried to leave for college." He pauses for dramatic effect, a smirk playing on his lips. "Got her knocked up. Can't exactly go to Yale with a baby on the way, can you?" He's clearly joking, but something in Rafe's expression shifts, his eyes taking on that dangerous gleam that appears when he's formulating a plan.

"That's..." Rafe stops pacing, his mind racing with possibilities. His jaw clenches rhythmically as he processes the idea. "That's fucking perfect." He starts pacing again, but this time with purpose, his movements predatory rather than anxious. "She'd have to stay. She'd be tied to me forever." His voice takes on that obsessive quality that appears when he's fixating on something. "No more fucking college applications, no more threats of leaving. She'd be mine, completely mine."

"Dude," Kelce sits up straighter, realizing Rafe's actually considering it. "I don't think that's what Topper meant-" But Rafe's already lost in his world, his cocaine-fueled paranoia latching onto this new solution like a lifeline. "She's still a virgin too," he continues, more to himself than his friends, his rings catching the light as he gestures animatedly. "Waiting for the 'right moment' or some shit. Well, guess that moment's coming sooner than she thought."

"No, no, this could work," Rafe continues, his voice taking on that edge that suggests he's spiraling into one of his episodes. "Her parents are traditional as fuck, they'd make her keep it. And Ward's always going on about wanting grandkids to carry on the Cameron name..." He's fully pacing now, his movements jerky and aggressive as the plan solidifies in his mind. "She's been hinting about wanting to do it soon anyway. Valentine's Day is coming up..."

The gym falls silent except for the sound of Rafe's footsteps and heavy breathing. Neither Kelce nor Topper dare speak, knowing from experience that trying to talk Rafe down when he's like this - especially when he's high - is pointless and potentially dangerous. They watch as their friend works himself into a frenzy, plotting the permanent capture of his girlfriend with the same intense focus he applies to everything he wants to possess.

"It's perfect," Rafe finally declares, stopping his pacing to face his friends. His chest heaves with excited breaths, sweat making his skin shine in the fading sunlight. "She'll never leave me then. She'll have to stay here, raise our kid, be the perfect fucking family." 

The thought of you, permanently his, unable to leave him, sends a rush of possessive pleasure through his system. "You guys didn't hear any of this," he suddenly stops, fixing both Kelce and Topper with a threatening stare. "Not a fucking word to anyone, got it?" His voice carries that dangerous edge that reminds them why people are scared of him, why even other Kooks think twice before crossing him.

"Jesus Christ, Rafe," Topper mutters, running a hand through his hair as he watches his friend's descent into this new obsession. "This is fucked up, even for you." But he knows that look in Rafe's eyes. Once Rafe sets his mind to something, especially when he's high, there's no talking him out of it. The gym feels smaller suddenly, charged with the energy of Rafe's newfound determination.

Rafe stands at the door of the l/n estate, his tall frame cutting an imposing figure in his tailored black suit. His blue eyes are slightly dilated from the line of cocaine he did in his truck to calm his nerves, but he's made sure to eye drop and cologne himself thoroughly. The velvet box containing the surprise he has planned for later weighs heavy in his pocket as he shifts anxiously, his rings catching the light as he reaches up to adjust his tie.

When Paul opens the door, Rafe immediately straightens his posture, forcing his most charming smile - the one he uses when he needs to impress. "Good evening, Mr. L/N," he greets, his voice steady despite the cocaine making his heart race. The older man's scrutinizing gaze reminds him uncomfortably of his own father's disapproving stares. The foyer behind Paul gleams with old money - crystal chandeliers, marble floors, and family portraits that speak of generations of Kook legacy.

"Rafe," Paul acknowledges with a slight nod, his eyes narrowing as he takes in the young man's appearance. There's something about Ward Cameron's son that has always set him on edge, though he can't quite put his finger on what. Maybe it's the occasional wild look in his eyes or the way his daughter seems to walk on eggshells around him sometimes. "Y/N is still getting ready. Come in." He steps aside, allowing Rafe into the pristine foyer.

The sound of Rafe's expensive dress shoes echoes against the marble as he enters, his hands sliding into his pockets to hide their slight tremor - partly from the drugs, partly from anticipation of what he has planned for tonight. The house smells of old money and fresh flowers, much like his own family's estate, but somehow more sterile, fitting for a plastic surgeon's home. His fingers brush against the small packet of powder in his pocket, next to the ring box - just enough to keep him steady through dinner.

"I trust you'll have her home at a reasonable hour," Paul's voice cuts through Rafe's thoughts, making him turn to face the older man. "Of course, sir," Rafe responds, that practiced smile still in place even as his jaw clenches slightly. "We just have reservations at Le Rivage, then maybe a walk on the beach." What he doesn't mention is the rest of his plans for the evening - the champagne waiting in his truck, the blankets he's laid out at his secret spot on the beach, the pills dissolved in one of the champagne glasses that will make sure everything goes according to plan.

The sound of heels on marble draws both men's attention to the grand staircase, and Rafe's breath catches in his throat. You descend like something out of a dream, your skin glowing against the deep red of your dress making his hands itch with the need to touch you. His blue eyes darken as they track your movement, his mind already racing ahead to later in the evening, to all the ways he plans to claim you completely.

"You look fucking perfect," he breathes out when you reach the bottom of the stairs, catching himself too late to censor his language in front of your father. But he can't help it - the cocaine making him more impulsive than usual, and the sight of you making his blood run hot. He steps forward to meet you, one hand reaching out to brush against your waist, proprietary and possessive even under your father's watchful gaze. The scent of your perfume mingles with the lingering chemical taste in the back of his throat, making him dizzy with want and anticipation.

Tonight's the night, he thinks, his grip on your waist tightening slightly as Paul insists on taking pictures. Tonight you become his completely, permanently. No more college applications, no more threats of leaving. The thought makes him pull you closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "Ready for your Valentine's surprise, baby?" His voice carries that dangerous edge that anyone else would recognize as a warning, but he knows his sweet, innocent Y/N won't catch it. Not until it's too late.

Rafe helps you into his truck, his hand lingering possessively on your lower back as you climb in. The interior smells of expensive leather and his cologne, mixed with something chemical that makes you wrinkle your nose slightly. He slides into the driver's seat, his movements are precise despite the cocaine coursing through his system. The engine purrs to life, and he immediately reaches for your hand, intertwining your fingers as he pulls away from your family's estate.

"You really do look fucking incredible tonight," he murmurs, his blue eyes flickering between you and the road. His thumb traces circles on your palm, a gesture that would seem sweet if not for the slight tremor in his hand. "That dress is driving me crazy." His rings catch the streetlights as you drive through Figure 8, passing other massive estates and perfectly manicured lawns.

"Thank you, baby," You respond softly, your free hand smoothing down the red fabric of your dress. "You clean up pretty nice yourself." You glance at him, admiring how the streetlights cast shadows across his sharp jawline. "So, are you going to tell me where we're going for dinner? You've been so secretive about tonight."

Rafe's grip on your hand tightens almost imperceptibly. "It's a surprise, remember?" His voice carries that edge of control he can never quite hide. "But first..." He reaches behind your seat with his free hand, pulling out a small gift bag. "I got you something to wear at dinner." Inside is a delicate diamond necklace, the stones catching the light like tiny stars.

"Oh, Rafe," You breathe, reaching for the necklace. "It's beautiful. You didn't have to-" You are cut off by his laugh, that sharp sound that always makes your stomach flip. "Of course I did. Only the best for my girl." He pulls into a secluded spot overlooking the water, putting the truck in park. "Here, let me put it on you."

His hands are slightly unsteady as he fastens the necklace around your throat, his breath hot against your neck. "Perfect," he whispers, his fingers trailing down your spine. "Just like you'll be after tonight." There's something in his voice that makes you shiver, though you can't quite place why. "What do you mean?" you ask, turning to face him.

Rafe's eyes are darker now, pupils blown wide as he stares at you. "Just that I've got big plans for us, baby." His hand comes up to cup your face, thumb brushing across your bottom lip. "Tonight's gonna change everything." He leans in closer, his other hand sliding up your thigh, pushing the fabric of your dress higher. "You trust me, right?"

"Of course I do," You whisper, even as something in your gut tells you something's off. You can feel his heart racing where your bodies are pressed together and you can smell something sharp and chemical on his breath beneath the mint. "Rafe, are you okay? You seem...different tonight."

"Never better," he responds, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. "Just excited to give you all your surprises." His hand moves higher up your thigh, possessive and demanding. "Now, how about we have a little drink before dinner? To celebrate Valentine's Day?" He reaches behind the seat again, pulling out an expensive bottle of champagne and two glasses.

Rafe pours the champagne with calculated precision, his hands steadier now as he hands you your specially prepared glass. The moonlight filtering through the truck's windows catches the diamond necklace at your throat, reminding him of how perfectly it marks you as his. His blue eyes track your every movement as you accept the glass, noting how the red fabric of your dress has ridden up slightly from your position.

"To us," he proposes, raising his glass with that dangerous smile playing at his lips. The cocaine makes everything feel more intense - the way your perfume fills the confined space of his truck, the soft sound of your breathing, the sight of your lips touching the rim of the glass. He watches intently as you take a sip, something predatory flickering in his eyes. "And to all the surprises tonight has in store."

"Mmm, this is really good," You comment, taking another sip. You don’t notice how Rafe barely touches his glass, too focused on watching your drink. "But shouldn't we head to dinner? We don't want to lose our reservation." You move to check the time on your phone, but Rafe's hand shoots out to stop you, his fingers wrapping around your wrist with practiced possessiveness.

"We've got time," he assures you, his voice dropping lower as he leans closer. His free hand comes up to trace the line of the necklace, fingers ghosting over your collarbone. "Besides, I want to enjoy this moment. Just you and me." He can feel your pulse racing under his fingers where they press against your wrist. "Finish your drink, baby. Then we can talk about dinner."

He watches as you obediently take another sip, then another. "You know what I love about you, Y/N?" His voice is rough now, heavy with want and something darker. "How fucking perfect you are. How innocent." His fingers trace patterns on your inner thigh, making you shiver. "How you trust me completely."

"Rafe," you breathe, and he notices your words are slightly slurred now. Your eyes are starting to look unfocused as you blink slowly at him. "I feel... strange." The champagne glass slips from your fingers, but he catches it smoothly, setting it aside. His heart is racing with a mixture of cocaine-fueled excitement and dark anticipation.

"Shh, baby," he soothes, pulling you closer as you start to sway slightly. "I've got you. Always got you." His lips brush against your neck, just above the diamond necklace. "And after tonight, you'll always be mine. No more college applications, no more threats of leaving." His voice takes on that possessive edge that would normally frighten you, but the drugs in your system are making everything feel distant and hazy.

"What did you..." you try to ask, your head falling back against the seat as your limbs grow heavy. Rafe's hand comes up to cup your face, his thumb stroking your cheek as he watches the drugs take effect. The moonlight casts shadows across his face, making his expression look almost demonic as he smiles down at you.

"Just making sure tonight goes exactly as planned," he whispers, his other hand already reaching for the blankets he has stashed behind the seats. "Don't fight it, baby. Just let go. Let me take care of everything." His lips crash against yours, swallowing any protest you might have made as the drugs pull you deeper under their influence.

Rafe watches with dark satisfaction as your movements become increasingly sluggish, your normally bright eyes growing heavy-lidded and unfocused. He shifts in his seat, reaching to recline both of your seats back to create more space in the truck's cabin. The moonlight streaming through the windows casts ethereal shadows across your skin as he positions your body how he wants.

"Rafe..." you mumble, your voice thick and confused as he spreads the blankets beneath you. "What's happening? I feel so..." Your word trails off as he captures your lips in another possessive kiss, his hands already working at the zipper of your red dress.

"Just relax, baby," he whispers against your mouth, cocaine making his movements more aggressive than usual. "Let me take care of you." His fingers trace the newly exposed skin of your back, savoring how you shiver under his touch despite your drugged state. "You look so fucking perfect like this. So helpless. So mine."

Rafe's hands slide possessively over your body as he peels the red dress from your drugged form, revealing the black underwear underneath. His blue eyes darken with predatory hunger as he drinks in the sight of you laid out beneath him in his truck, the diamond necklace glinting at your throat like a collar. The softness of your skin, the way your chest rises and falls with each shallow breath, the little whimpers that escape your lips as you try to fight through the fog in your mind.

"Shh, baby," he soothes, his voice rough with desire as his hands roam over your exposed flesh. "Just let it happen. You know you want this." His fingers trace the edge of your lacy bra, teasing your hardened nipples through the delicate fabric. "Been waiting so fucking long for this moment. To make you completely mine."

"Rafe, please," You slurred, weakly trying to push at his chest. "Something's wrong... I can't..." Your protests are cut off by his mouth crashing against yours, his tongue forcing its way past your lips as his hand slides between your thighs. He groans when he feels how wet you are through your panties, his cock straining against his suit pants.

"Look how ready you are for me," he rubs circles against your clit through the lace. "Your body knows what it wants, even if your mind's trying to fight it." He pulls back to admire his handiwork - your lips swollen from his kisses, your pupils blown wide from the drugs, your chest heaving as you struggle to focus. "Gonna fill you up so good, baby. Gonna put my baby in you tonight."

Rafe’s fingers hook into your panties, slowly dragging them down your legs as you weakly try to squeeze your thighs together. The moonlight catches on the wetness between your legs, making him groan. "Fuck, look at that pretty pussy," he breathes, his fingers spreading you open. "All perfect and untouched. Not for long though." 

Rafe's fingers work methodically between your thighs, spreading your wetness as he watches your face contort with unwilling pleasure. His other hand pins your wrists above your head, his rings cold against your feverish skin. The truck's windows are starting to fog up from your heavy breathing, creating a private cocoon around you.

"That's it, baby," he growls, sliding two fingers into you, feeling how tight you are around them. "Gonna stretch you out nice and slow before I fuck a baby into you." His cock throbs painfully in his pants as he watches you arch beneath him, the drugs making you more responsive even as you try to resist.

"No... Rafe... please," You whimper, your head thrashing weakly against the leather seat. But your body betrays you, hips rocking against his skilled fingers as he finds that spot inside you that makes you see stars. The diamond necklace glints at your throat as you gasp, reminding him of his ownership.

"Look at you, taking my fingers so well," he praises darkly, adding a third finger to stretch you further. "Can't wait to feel this tight little cunt around my cock." His thumb finds your clit, rubbing circles that make your whole body tremble. "Gonna fill you up so good, baby. Make sure my cum stays deep inside you until it takes."

The way your walls clench around his fingers, the little sounds you make as he works your body, the perfect arch of your back as you fight between pleasure and resistance. He leans down to capture one of your nipples in his mouth, biting down just hard enough to make you cry out.

"Please," you beg, though whether you're begging him to stop or continue, even you don’t know anymore. Your body is on fire, every nerve ending singing from his touch as the drugs make everything feel more intense. "Rafe... I can't..."

"Yes, you can," he demands, curling his fingers inside you as his thumb speeds up on your clit. "Come on my fingers like a good girl. Show me how much you want my cock." His blue eyes are wild with possession as he watches you fall apart beneath him, knowing that after tonight, you’ll never be able to leave him. 

Rafe’s fingers work relentlessly between your thighs. His free hand moves from your wrists to grip your throat, right above the diamond necklace, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp. "Let me feel that tight little pussy squeeze my fingers."

Your body betrays you even as your mind tries to resist, waves of unwilling pleasure building under his skilled touch. The drugs make everything feel heightened - the stretch of his fingers inside you, the pressure of his thumb on your clit, the heat of his breath against your neck. Your legs start to tremble as you approach your peak.

"That's it, baby," He watches your face contort with pleasure and confusion. His cock strains painfully against his suit pants, demanding attention. But he forces himself to wait, to savor this moment of taking your innocence piece by piece. "Give it to me. Show me how good I make you feel."

The sound of your heavy breathing fills the truck's cabin, mixing with the wet sounds of his fingers working between your legs. Rafe's eyes are dark with possession as he watches you fight against the inevitable, knowing that each moment brings him closer to his ultimate goal. The moonlight catches on the sweat beading on your skin, making you glow ethereally.

"I... I can't..." You whimper, your back arching off the seat as pleasure builds to an unbearable level. The drugs make everything feel like too much and not enough all at once. "Rafe, please..." Your fingers clutch desperately at his shoulders. "You can, and you will," he commands, his voice taking on that dangerous edge that brooks no argument. His fingers curl inside you, finding that spot that makes you see stars while his thumb circles your clit with practiced precision. "Come for me now. Let me feel it."

Rafe watches with dark satisfaction as your body trembles beneath him, your back arching off the leather seat as pleasure builds. His fingers work relentlessly inside your pussy, stretching and preparing you for what's to come. The way your walls clench around his digits, the little gasps and moans you can't hold back, the perfect arch of your spine as you fight between resistance and ecstasy.

"That's my good girl," his free hand moving from your throat to grip your hair, forcing you to look at him. "Watch me while you come. Want to see those pretty eyes when I make you fall apart." His thumb continues its relentless assault on your clit as his fingers curl inside you, hitting that spot that makes your whole body shake.

Your eyes flutter open, glazed with drugs and unwilling pleasure. The moonlight catches the tears gathering in your lashes as you stare up at him, unable to look away from his intense blue gaze. Your lips part in a silent scream as the pressure builds to an unbearable level, your body tightening around his fingers.

"Please," Her hands clutch desperately at his shoulders, leaving crescent marks through his expensive shirt. "Rafe, I can't... it's too much..."

"Yes, you can," he demands, his voice rough with desire and dominance. "Come for me now, baby. Show me how good I make you feel." His fingers speed up inside you, the wet sounds of your arousal filling the truck's cabin. "Let go. Let me see you fall apart before I fuck you properly."

The combination of his skilled fingers, the drugs in your system, and his commanding voice finally pushes you over the edge. Your whole body goes rigid as pleasure crashes through you, walls clenching rhythmically around his fingers as you come with a broken cry of his name. 

"Beautiful," he breathes, working you through the aftershocks as you tremble beneath him. "But we're not done yet, baby. Not even close." His free hand moves to his belt, the sound of the buckle loud in the confined space. "Now it's time for the main event. Time to make you completely mine."

Rafe takes his time unbuckling his belt, the metallic sound echoing in the confined space of his truck. His blue eyes never leave your face as he watches you come down from your high, your body still trembling with aftershocks. Your chest heaves with each breath, the glisten of sweat on your skin, the slight quiver of your thighs as they remain spread for him.

"Look at you," he grunts, finally freeing his throbbing cock from his pants. "All fucked out from just my fingers, and we haven't even gotten to the best part yet." His hand wraps around his length, stroking slowly as he positions himself between your legs. The head of his cock brushes against your sensitive folds, making you whimper. "Been waiting so fucking long for this moment."

"Rafe," You slur, your drugged mind struggling to focus as you feel his size pressing against your entrance. "Wait... I'm not ready..." Your weak protests only serve to fuel his desire, his grip tightening on your hip as he holds you in place. The diamond necklace at your throat catches the moonlight as you try to shift away.

"You're more than ready, baby," he counters, using his free hand to spread your wetness along his length. "Your body's begging for it. Been begging for it all night." He leans down, capturing your lips in a possessive kiss as he starts to push inside your entrance. The stretch is intense, making you gasp against his mouth. "Gonna make you take every fucking inch."

His cock inches forward slowly, savoring the way your walls resist his invasion. The truck's windows are completely fogged now, creating a private world for just the two of you. Rafe's breathing grows heavier as he feels your tight heat enveloping him, his control starting to slip. "Fuck, you're so tight," he groans, his fingers digging into your hip hard enough to leave bruises. "Taking my cock so well, just like I knew you would."

Tears stream down your cheeks as he stretches you open, the mixture of pain and drugged pleasure making your head spin. Your hands clutch at his shoulders, nails digging into the expensive fabric of his suit jacket. "Almost there, baby," he pants against your neck, his hips still pushing forward relentlessly. "Just a little more and you'll have all of me." His free hand slides between them to rub your clit, knowing the added stimulation will help your body accept him. "Gonna fill this tight little pussy up with my cum, make sure it takes. Make sure you can never leave me."

Rafe's hips finally meet yours as he bottoms out inside you, a groan of satisfaction rumbling deep in his chest. Your walls flutter around his length as you adjust to being completely filled for the first time. The truck's cabin is thick with the scent of sex and sweat, the leather seats creaking beneath them with each subtle movement.

"There we go," he pants against your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there. His hands grip your hips possessively as he holds himself still, savoring the moment. "Been dreaming about this for so fucking long, baby. About claiming you completely." You whimper beneath him, your mind is hazy from the drugs as your body struggles to accommodate his size. Tears continue to stream down your cheeks, your fingers clutch weakly at his shoulders as you feel him throb inside you.

"Please," you manage to gasp, though your drugged state makes it hard to form coherent thoughts. "It's too much... I can't..." Your protests are cut off by his mouth capturing yours in a demanding kiss, his tongue invading your mouth just as his cock has invaded your body.

"Yes, you can," his hips starting to move in shallow thrusts. "And you will. Gonna fuck a baby into you tonight, make sure you can never leave me." His movements gradually become deeper, and more purposeful, as he establishes a rhythm. "Watch me while I do it. Want to see those pretty eyes when I breed you." One hand slides from your hip to grip your jaw, forcing you to maintain eye contact as he fucks into you. "That's it," he praises darkly as your body starts to respond despite your protests. "Take it like a good girl. Let me feel that pussy squeeze my cock."

Rafe's movements become more intense, his hips snapping against yours with increasing force as he chases his release. The truck rocks with your movements, his hands grip your hips bruisingly tight as he pounds into you, watching with dark satisfaction as pleasure and pain war across your drugged features.

"Fuck, you feel perfect," he groans, one hand sliding up to wrap around your throat just above the diamond necklace. "So fucking tight around my cock. Like you were made for this." His thumb traces your bottom lip as he continues his relentless pace. "Made to take my cum, to carry my baby."

Your head thrashes weakly against the leather seat, your body overwhelmed by the mix of drugs and unwilling pleasure. Your walls clench around him involuntarily as another orgasm builds, making him grunt with satisfaction. "That's it, baby," he praises darkly. "Squeeze my cock just like that. Show me how much your body wants this." His free hand moves between them to rub your clit, determined to make you come around his cock. "Gonna fill you up so good," he pants, his rhythm becoming more erratic as he nears his release. "Gonna pump you full of my cum until it takes. Make sure everyone knows you belong to me." His fingers speed up on your clit as he feels your walls starting to flutter. "Come for me now, baby. Let me feel that tight little pussy milk my cock."

Rafe's grip tightens on your hips as he feels his release building, his thrusts becoming more desperate and erratic. "That's it, baby," feeling your walls clench around him as another orgasm builds in your drugged body. "Come on my cock like a good girl. Show me how much you want my cum." Your back arches off the seat as pleasure crashes through you against your will, your walls squeezing his length rhythmically. The sight of you coming undone beneath him finally pushes Rafe over the edge. With a guttural groan, he buries himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing as he empties himself into your pussy. "Fuck," he pants against your neck, grinding his hips to ensure his cum stays deep inside. "All mine now."

He collapses on top of you for a moment, both of you catching your breath in the steamy confines of his truck. The diamond necklace glints at your throat as he finally pulls out, watching with dark satisfaction as his release drips from your used pussy. "No more college applications, no more threats of leaving. You're stuck with me now, baby." Without a word, he starts fixing his clothes, already planning your next encounter in his mind. 

"Let's get you home, baby," he says, his voice rough as he helps you dress on shaky legs. "Don't want your daddy getting suspicious." His hand rests possessively on your thigh as he starts the truck, knowing that after tonight, everything has changed. The drive back is silent except for your occasional whimpers, the drugs still making your head fuzzy as she processes what just happened.

A week later,  

Rafe lounges against his truck at the Boneyard, The beach is relatively empty at this hour, just a few surfers catching the last waves of the day. His blue eyes track your movement, noting how pale you look, and how your usual confident stride seems shakier. A smirk plays at his lips, though he keeps his expression carefully neutral.

"Hey baby," he calls out, pushing off the truck to meet you. His hands immediately find your waist, pulling you close as he studies your face. "You sounded weird on the phone. Everything okay?" The concern in his voice is perfectly crafted, masking the satisfaction he feels as he takes in your distressed state.

Your hands tremble as you pull away from his embrace, wrapping your arms around yourself protectively. "Rafe, I... I need to tell you something." Your voice cracks slightly as you speak, tears already gathering in your eyes. "I went to the doctor today..."

"What's wrong?" Rafe steps closer, his hand coming up to cup your face with practiced gentleness. Inside, his heart races with anticipation, but his expression remains one of innocent concern. "You've been sick all week. Did they figure out what's wrong?"

"I'm pregnant," you whisper, the words carried away by the ocean breeze. Your eyes search his face desperately for any sign of recognition, any hint that he remembers your Valentine's night. "But I don't... I can't remember... The last thing I clearly remember is having champagne in your truck..."

Rafe's eyes widen in perfectly feigned shock, his hand dropping from your face as he takes a step back. "You're... what?" He runs a hand through his hair, the picture of a young man receiving unexpected news. "But we've never... I mean, I thought you wanted to wait?" His voice carries just the right amount of confusion and disbelief.

"That's just it," Your voice rises slightly, panic evident in your tone. "I don't remember! Valentine's Day is just... fuzzy. But the doctor said I'm about a week along, and you're the only one I've been with..." you trail off, tears now flowing freely down your cheeks.

Rafe pulls you into his arms, hiding his triumphant smile in your hair. "Shh, it's okay," he soothes, one hand moving to rest possessively over your still-flat stomach. "We'll figure this out together. I'm here for you, baby. Always." His voice drops lower, taking on that dangerous edge you're too distraught to notice. "Guess those college applications won't be necessary anymore, huh?"

His hand tightens possessively around your waist as you tremble against him, his other hand still resting on your stomach where his child is growing. The setting sun casts long shadows across the beach, the sound of waves providing a backdrop to your quiet sobs. His blue eyes gleam with dark satisfaction as he feels you collapse further into his embrace, exactly where he wants you.

"What am I going to tell my parents?" You whisper against his chest, your voice breaking. "My dad... he's going to kill me. And all my college plans..." You pull back slightly to look up at him, mascara running down your cheeks. "Rafe, I can't remember anything from that night. How did this happen?"

Rafe's jaw clenches as he maintains his facade of confusion and concern. "Hey, look at me," he demands softly, tilting your chin up with his fingers. "Your parents love you. And my family... well, Ward's always talking about wanting grandkids." His thumb wipes away your tears as he studies your face. "Maybe this is a good thing, you know? You and me, starting our own family."

"But I had plans," you protest weakly, your hands clutching at his shirt. "Harvard, Yale... I was supposed to get out of Outer Banks..." You don’t even notice how his grip tightens painfully at your words or the flash of possessive anger in his eyes.

"Fuck those plans," he growls, before quickly softening his tone. "I mean, things change, right? Sometimes for the better." His hand slides up to cup your face, forcing you to maintain eye contact. "You've got me now. Got us. Isn't that better than some fancy college where you don't know anyone?" He’s super hyper-focused on every detail - the way you unconsciously lean into his touch, how your body fits perfectly against his, the slight swell of your breasts that's already becoming noticeable. His other hand remains possessively on your stomach, imagining how it will grow with his child.

"I'm scared," You admit, your voice small against the sound of crashing waves. "Everything's happening so fast, and I can't remember... that night is just blank, Rafe. Doesn't that bother you?" You search his face for any sign of recognition, any hint of guilt.

But Rafe's expression remains carefully crafted a mixture of concern and determination. "What bothers me is seeing you upset," he lies smoothly, pulling you closer. "We'll figure this out together, okay? You and me and our baby. "No more talk about leaving, though. You belong here, with me. Got it?"

"We should tell our parents soon," he says, his voice carrying that edge of control he can never quite hide. "Get everything out in the open. But first, promise me something, baby. Promise me you'll stop looking at those college applications."

Your eyes widen with fresh tears as you stare up at him. "But Rafe, I can't just give up everything I've worked for..." Your voice trails off as his grip tightens slightly on your chin, his blue eyes darkening with barely contained possession.

"Those dreams were for the old Y/N," he states firmly, his thumb brushing across your bottom lip. "The one who didn't have a family to think about. Things are different now." His other hand presses harder against your stomach, a reminder of what's growing inside of you. "You've got bigger responsibilities. To me. To our baby."

The waves crash against the shore behind them as silence stretches between them. Rafe can feel your pulse racing beneath his fingers where they rest against your throat and can see the moment you start to break under the weight of reality. His plan is working perfectly - soon you’ll be completely his, tied to him forever through your child.

"I... I need time to think," You finally whisper, trying to step back from his embrace. But Rafe's grip remains firm, keeping you close as the last rays of sunlight disappear behind the horizon. His expression shifts into something darker, more possessive.

"No more thinking," One of his hands slid up to tangle in your hair. "No more plans that don't include me. You're mine now, Y/N. The sooner you accept that, the better." His voice carries a threat wrapped in velvet as he stares down at you. "Or should we talk about how convenient it is that you can't remember Valentine's Day?"

Rafe's threat hangs heavy in the air as your face drains of color. His fingers tighten in your hair, cocaine making his movements more aggressive than usual. The darkened beach feels suddenly oppressive as he towers over your trembling form.

"What... what do you mean?" You whisper, your voice is small and frightened as you search his face. The familiar warmth in his blue eyes has been replaced by something cold and calculating that makes your stomach turn.

"You really want to know what happened that night?" he asks, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. His hand slides from your stomach to your hip possessively. "Want me to tell you exactly how I made sure you'd never leave me? How I watched you drink that champagne, knowing what was in it?"

You try to pull away, but his grip is iron-tight as realization dawns on your face. "No," she breathes, shaking her head in denial. "You wouldn't... you couldn't..." But the predatory smile spreading across his face tells you everything you need to know.

"I did," he confirms, pulling you closer until your faces are inches apart. "And now you're carrying my baby. No more college applications. No more dreams of leaving. You're mine forever now, baby." His thumb brushes away a tear from your cheek with mock tenderness. "And if you ever think about telling anyone... well, who's going to believe the girl who can't remember her own Valentine's Day?"

The waves crash behind them as your world crumbles around you. You can feel the weight of the promise ring on your finger - once a symbol of love, now feeling more like a shackle. Rafe watches you process everything with dark satisfaction, knowing he's won completely.

"Why?" you finally manage to ask through your tears, your voice breaking on the single word. The hand in your hair tightens as Rafe's expression turns almost tender, though his eyes remain cold.

"Because you're mine," he states simply as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. "And I take care of what's mine. You'll see, baby. This is better than any fancy college could ever be." His hand moves to rest on your stomach again, possessive and threatening all at once. "Our little family, together forever in Outer Banks. Just like it should be."

[gghostwriter]

Wanted: A Gentleman

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Part 2 || Future take Summary: Your lovely group of friends, Penelope, JJ, and Emily, set you up with your perfect match Trope: Fluff! Just fluff! w.c: 1.3k a/n: Back at it again with something miss Sabrina Carpenter inspired. The fluff idea has finally struck and I love how this ended up, even without any editing! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated! 💗 masterlist

“I’m serious!” You clarified, wiggling to get comfy on Penelope’s sofa. “It was the worst date I’ve ever been on!”

All the three girls laughed. It was Friday night, girl’s night, and you found yourself surrounded by the baddest girls Virginia could ever offer. The Powerpuff girls of the BAU as you once jokingly dubbed them—JJ being Blossom, Penelope being Bubbles, and Emily being Buttercup. Witty thinking on your part, if you say so yourself. 

Having just moved into the state just a few months ago, you were grateful for the ray of sunshine that Penelope was for taking you under her wing and introducing you to a great set of girlfriends.

“It can’t be that bad—” JJ giggled as she took a sip of her newly refilled glass wine. “Can it?”

Bringing out your phone, you swiped to the screenshot Bumble profile of your date the night before. He wasn’t bad looking, not at all. He was cute in a very American boy next door type of way but then again, his profile being filled with gym pictures should have clued you in.

“We had dinner at that newly opened restaurant, Palm & Pine, which is a great place by the way, but all he ever did was talk about himself—”

Emily nodded along. “Typical macho male behavior.”

“—that wasn’t even the worst part! He brought out a scale, a portable weighing scale, to log his macro calories in a fitness app!”

Penelope chose the wrong time to take a sip of her drink causing her cough violently while the two remaining girls threw back their heads and laughed hysterically. All you could hear were gasps of weighing scale and calories between them.

“I’m all for being healthy but really? On a first date?” You crossed your arms to your chest. “At this point, I might as well get a cat or two to keep me company.”

Penelope snatched your phone and clicked to open the dating app. “Oh no no, sweetheart. You’re too beautiful and nice to end up alone. We can find you a perfect man to love and take home with!”

“Yeah, we’re profilers. Trust us to pick for you,” Emily slyly added as she peeked behind Garcia’s shoulder.

Reaching out for the opened bottle of alcohol, you sighed in defeat and let the girls do their thing. “I’m going to need copious amounts of alcohol in my system for this.”

———

It was bad. Based on all their comments and numerous swipes to the left, the dating pool was atrocious, hell on earth. 

“He looks cute—” Penelope continue to scroll on his profile before making a face. “Never mind, look at that horrible grammar.”

JJ leaned in and read the poor man’s bio. “Theirs a million reasons why I’m your future boyfriend—Jesus, it’s really hard out there, huh?”

“I’d take any man who’s nice and breathes,” you laugh in despair. 

Emily’s eyes twinkle from a sudden idea. Everyone had been drinking continuously and the filter had been turned off by the time the third bottle was opened. Any thought made beyond just screamed bad idea. “You know, we could just set you up with Reid.”

“Reid?” you tilted your head to the side. What kind of a name is that? Its very…unique. “You have a co-worker named Reid? As in that’s his first name?”

“No, no, no. His name is Spencer, Reid is just his last name,” JJ clarified, leaning forward with a sweet smile on her face. Oh no, you knew that look. She was very much into this.

Penelope slides your phone to you and promptly claps her hands in glee. “You’re so right! Why didn’t I think of that!”

“Right,” Emily turned to face the other two. “They’d be great for each other. Now we just have to get him to agree. JJ—” the blonde raised her eyebrows. “—can you talk to Reid about it?”

She shrugged. “I could but you know how stubborn he is.”

“I’ll blackmail him if I have to,” Penelope interjected. “Boy genius needs to meet our own girl genius. They’ll be perfect for each other, he just doesn’t know it.”

Your eyes volleyed in between the three. “Don’t I have a say in this?”

Emily tsk’ed as she turned her inquisitive dark eyes on you. “I’ll cash in on that prize I won last time.”

“No,” you breathed out, remembering how you badly lost last poker night and vowed to do any dare the winner would tell you to do.

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes,” her smile growing wider and wider with each denial. 

Your shoulders slumped forward. “Fine but he better be the love of my life or you owe me big time.”

“Don’t worry your pretty head. He will be,” Penelope laughed, pouring more wine in all of the glasses. “Cheers!”

———

It took three weeks before the girls were finally able to wear the mysterious Dr. Spencer Reid down and in the midst of waiting (and stubbornly hoping that he would never give in), you learned more about the boy genius than you ever wished for. How he has an IQ of 187, graduated high school at the age of 12, has 3 PhDs under his belt, and an avid reader—like yourself. 

You begrudgingly admitted that he spiked your interest and having someone to talk to about books would be lovely but beyond that, you were slightly intimidated by his background which made yours, a literature degree graduate and publishing editor, seem insignificant. Penelope tried to squash that negative thought once you aired it out in the open by saying that Spencer wasn’t the type to judge anyone based on their societal standing. If anything, he’d find you interesting, she urged.

But there was one information you weren’t privy to, how he looks like. The girls didn’t want to show any photos, stating it’s best to see him face to face rather than through an image, which in turn made you imagine the worst. 

You looked around, standing on the second step of the museum as you try to spot any curly, hazel haired man walking your way. He wasn’t late, you were just too anxious to be fashionably late. 

Someone stopped in front of you at the bottom of the steps. 

“Are you—” the doe eyed stranger cleared his throat. “Y/N? Penelope’s friend?”

Oh damn. He was beautiful.

“Yes, are you Dr. Spencer Reid?” You squeaked. 

He smiled, stunning you into even more into awe. “Hi, yes. Yes, Spencer is fine.”

“Should we go inside?” You breathed out as you watched his cheeks reddened, no doubt matching the color of your own.

He nodded before slightly touching your arm to stop you in place and bending down like he was some kind of knight and shining armor and for all you knew, he could be. “Your shoelace is undone. Did you know that there’s more than 1,000 cases related to loss of footing each year and 67% of these falls were attribute to untied shoelaces?”

“We wouldn’t want to contribute to that, do we?” You quipped back as you studied how the sunlight hit his wavy locks, turning some into gold, and his doe expressive eyes with specs of green in them. Your favorite color as of today.

He laughed, his high pitched chuckle further capturing your heart. “Shall we?”

“We shall.” 

Your thoughts thanking the three women for setting you up with what seemed to be a perfect gentleman. 

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[hollandsangel]

move over | m. sturniolo

okAY here we go this is my first sturniolo fic please be nice to me i am afraid

ps if you’d like to be tagged in any (possible) future fics comment 🍜

summary: matt needs a bigger bed

wc: 1k

warnings: matt x fem!reader, cursing, nightmares? no description really, just funny and fluffy 🫡 all the triplets are in it but reader is dating matt!

..does anyone remember that one video where matt said chris never sleeps in his own bed? well…

gif by @mattsturnioloarchive !

you feel yourself slipping back into consciousness, and you can tell from the soft, pale blue light of matt’s bedroom that it’s morning. matt’s fast asleep behind you, resting on his stomach with you tucked up into his side, his right arm slung over your waist. you’re already upset that you have to pee, the idea of crawling out of the sleep-warm bed and leaving your boyfriend’s cozy embrace is not an appealing one, but the nagging in your bladder won’t go away.

with a sleepy sigh you stretch your arm out just enough to the tap the screen of your phone, the numbers 8:23 glaring back you. you still don’t have to be up for another hour and a half, which you think is an acceptable amount of time left to lay in matt’s arms and snooze a bit more, even if you don’t really need anymore sleep.

it’s a bit tricky to clamber out of bed without waking the sleeping boy next to you. trying to keep from dragging the duvet with you when you slide out. you tuck matt back in properly before you wander off to his bathroom. softly, you click the door shut, and it, along with your sleep-hazy mind, muffles any sounds coming from outside the bathroom.

for once, chris slept in his own bed, knowing you’d be sleeping over and nick was editing the video meant to go up later this afternoon early into the morning. it’s too early for him to be waking up on his own but something stirs him into wakefulness, his heart beating a little faster than it should be.

matt had woken up for a mere second when you slipped out of bed and hasn’t fallen back into the depth of his sleep, waiting for you to come back. he’s just barley alert enough to hear shuffling from down the hall, getting louder until the person responsible is standing at the crack in the door.

“matt?” chris whispers, peeking into the bedroom.

matt groans and rolls over just until he can see his brother over his shoulder, “what, chris?”

“i had a fucked up dream, dude,” chris says, padding further into the room, “where’s y/n?”

matt turns a little closer to his brother, facing him now, “bathroom,” he mumbles, “what was it about?”

chris is still standing in the middle of the room, phone held loosely in his hand, “you got into a fuckin’ car accident, a really bad one” he admits, feeling a bit foolish and juvenile for running to his brother after a bad dream, “can i sleep in here?”

matt’s face softens and he rubs his eye, “yeah, ‘course.” he says, watching chris slowly walk towards the bed, “that’s her side,” he says though when chris tries to lay where you had been.

chris fakes a scowl and matt makes a face back, sleep still tugging at his mind. the two of them lay back down, back to back, tugging the covers over their shoulders.

you finish washing your hands and shut off the bathroom light. rubbing at your eyes, you make your way back to matt’s room, looking forward to sleeping a bit longer. upon wandering in you’re met with more than one body under the blankets, making you stop in your tracks.

“chris?” you wonder outloud, stopped in the door way.

matt answers before his brother can, “he had a bad dream,” he explains to you, face smushed into the pillow, leaving the words all muffled and extra groggy.

“sure,” you say, as if chris sleeping in matt’s bed doesn’t surprise you (it doesn’t). dragging your feet over to your side of the bed to matt, where he’s taking up a bit too much room. “move over,” you tell him when he peels the blankets back for you. he shuffles back with a little too much effort and you climb back into bed.

once you’re settled matt scoots a little bit closer to you to make more room for the three people now in his queen sized bed, but also because he never passes up an excuse to hold you a little tighter.

you doze in and out, matt’s soft breath against your neck keeping you a little bit dazed but not quite enough to lull you back to sleep fully. it must be nearing 10 am now, more bright sun spilling in from the cracks in the curtains above the bed. you think chris is awake too, hearing breathy little chuckles every now and then. you reach for your phone, deciding on a mindless scroll through instagram.

after a few minutes it sounds like nick has also woken up, his footsteps audible in the bedroom above. you hear him coming down the stairs, and you think he stops in the kitchen until his voice fills the quiet halls.

“chris?” he asks, standing in his brother’s empty bedroom, confused as to why he’s not in bed.

“in here,” chris speaks up, waiting for nick to press the door open.

he does, standing at arms length with a skeptical look on his face, almost afraid of what he might find. “um…hello, what are you doing in here?” nick asks, finally crossing the threshold.

“he had a bad dream,” matt says into your shoulder, startling you. you didn’t know he was awake.

“i had a bad dwream,” chris says in that stupid pouty voice that drives all of you insane, no doubt looking at nick with puppy dog eyes.

“oh…kay,” nick says and you laugh at the suspicion still evident in his tone.

“did you see the tik tok i sent you?” chris is laughing but stops abruptly when matt kicks him in the calf, which makes you giggle into your boyfriend’s arm.

“yeah, but i’m a bit more preoccupied with the absurdity of the three of you in matt’s bed right now,” nick says in his distinct deadpan drawl, which only makes you smile more.

“c’mon nick you might as well join us,” you say, earning a loud, over exaggerated groan from matt, his arms tightening around your waist.

you think nick must oblige because he doesn’t say anything for a second, coming closer to the bed.

“move over, dummy fuck,” he says to chris, who laughs out loud and scoots closer to matt.

“i hate them,” matt whispers in your ear.

tags! @mattsturnioloarchive @averysbestyears

[suiana]

bruh i was talking to my friends about our types in guys and i said "i like boyfailures, absolute losers" and rambled about how they were just so cute and I'd be going 'yeah that's cool babe, tell me more about your pokemon and dinosaurs☺️' but then later on in the dsy i realised bro what if i AM the loser and someone thought of me like that 😵 therefore i give you yandere! golden boy x loser! reader

basically you're a loser who doesn't think they're a loser. you're the type of loser who talks a lot of shit online about how 𝖘𝖎𝖌𝖒𝖆 and hot you are when in reality you can't order a meal without hyping yourself up for 5 minutes beforehand.

you'd be pretending you're hot and mysterious but the second someone indicates the SMALLEST hint of anything you're interested in, you go on full on rambles and rants. then you snap back to reality and realize that hey! you don't even know this stranger! and just... walk away.

you're the type of person to go to the doctor with your mommy because you're scared to talk to doctors yourself and you'll look at her when the doctor asks any question, expecing her to answer for you. 'so what's your name? looks at mother' ahhh reaction.

yeah. basically, a loser. with hyperfixations on anime/game characters that you consume millions of content of. you probably sleep with plushies too and read fanfiction before sleeping. or you're doomscrolling reddit/tiktok/some form of social media and sleeping at 3 in the morning.

enter, him.

the golden boy. the perfect boy with perfect grades and a perfect body and- basically everything. he does like 3 sports, speaks 5 languages, everyone loves him, he graduated from an ivy league or an ivy league equivalent, and he's going to inherit his father's company! rich, tall, handsome. he has everything set out for him. cool beans.

anyway!

you don't know how, and you don't know why, but this man is now in love with you. you... probably met him while working your minimum wage job at some fast food restaurant.

"hi, i think you're really cute. would you like to go out on a date with me?"

"h-huh? erm..."

yeah, you don't know how to react so you just malfunctioned briefly before taking another customer's order. but he wouldn't let up. not at all, because he'd find your socials and have HOURS of conversation with you, on total accident, of course! no dirty work involved. totally. just pure coincidence, just like god or whatever is above intended!

"heh, must be my aura that allowed me to get that limited edition skin... what do you think, best friend?"

"yeah, this is the one guys. I'm marrying them."

"what did you say, best friend?"

"oh, nothing at all ☺️ go on with your rant, sweetie."

by some stroke of luck, definitely not him pulling some strings, you get a job offer that somehow is related to- wow, what do you know! his company! so you leave your boring 9-5 job and sign the contract. what a nice friend he is!

"here, just sign down on the line and you'll be able to start working right away."

"wow this contract is really long, best friend."

"haha... right, I'm definitely just a best friend..."

a contract that definitely does NOT bind you to him. yeah, no, definitely not. nuh uh. what? you're trying to read the fine print? there's no need for that! it's all just boring stuff...

yeah, definitely no conditions that will allow him to legally keep you trapped with him... and should you ever try to leave. well, it's just not possible.

but hey! at least now you get endless cash and you even have this cool best friend who really seems to spoil you!

oh, and now he's asking to be your boyfriend.

"sorry, you're not my type... i like the losers. boyfailures, even."

"sweetie..."

..

...

yeah, so now you're dating. it's all cool. yeah, you... totally don't mind this.

"best friend can we get some chicken nuggets? i really want some chicken nuggets and fries, best friend."

"it's boyfriend, sweetie. but of course! anything you want ☺️ we can get those chicken nuggets and more if you want."

okay well, at least it's not that bad... he's rich and handsome, he spoils you and loves you! like those guys in fanfiction, right? maybe a little too much though.

"sweetie, I'm throwing away all your merchandise of this man thing, okay? I'm replacing it with merchandise of me."

"don't tell me you're already throwing it away..."

"☺️"

"we're OVER."

[thesummerpetrichor]

𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓬𝓪𝓷 𝓫𝓮 𝓶𝔂 𝓭𝓪𝓭𝓭𝔂

Father in law!Javier Peña x afab!fem!reader

Summary: Your soon to be husband leaves you at the alter, but you should have guessed since the practice seemed to run in the family. It’s hard to be upset however, when his father comes to repent for not only his own but his son’s wrong doings. Aka fiancé’s dad Javi fucking you in your wedding dress after his son ditches you at the altar.

Warnings: 18+ only minors DNI you will be blocked. Minimal editing, unspecified but thicc and legal age gap, infidelity, daddy kink, heavy breeding kink, insane dirty talk, toxic father son relationship, reader is delulu, praise kink, petnames, sex in front of a mirror, veil pulling??, a few spanks, creampie, Javi fucks you into the mattress, unprotected P in V [don’t do it!!]. Let me know if I missed anything 🫶.

Word count: 2.6k

A/N: Literally just porn without plot, lotsa fucking, I want father in law Javi. Minimally edited lmao I just banged this out Can’t wait for you to read it!! Hope you enjoy, nasties! Mwah!

Masterlist

You rich and I'm wishin', um

You could be my mister, yum

Delicious to the maximum

Chew you up like bubble gum

You love me, he wants me

I think I want you too

Best day of your life- yeah, what a fucking joke. But what were you expecting? Ditching people at the altar seemed to run in the family. Okay, maybe that was a bit of a harsh assessment of the Peñas, especially Peña senior, who, despite all you had heard of him from your ex fiance, had always shown you kindness. 

The thing is, it becomes really fucking hard to be charitable to a family when their son humiliates you infront of the entirety of Texas. Leaves you high and dry on the steps of the biggest church in town in your great grandmother’s silk dress. It becomes even harder when you learn his mother had been in on it all along, sparing you not even a little apology, or a comforting embrace after her son's little getaway plan had been revealed. 

Instead of extending you a supporting hand, she ran away to make sure her baby boy was okay, and that this entire ordeal hadn’t taken a toll on his emotional and psychological well being. 

How thoughtful. 

Of course, you were the pathetic one– unable to look anyone in the eye, sobbing on your fathers shoulder till you couldn’t breathe any longer. So distraught and unwell even getting out of your wedding attire seemed impossible. It only made you feel even more pathetic. At some point you ended up curling up in your hotel bed, still in the “happiest day of your life” outfit, and pleading for some time alone from your friends and family to wallow in your own suffering. 

You would eat your feelings in the from of the apology chocolates the hotel had complimented for you, but you couldn’t manage to even do that without feeling like a total fucking looser. 

After all that had transpired, and after years of hearing nothing but sour things about your soon to be father in law, safe to say you were surprised to see him at your hotel room door at midnight as the ambassador the family seemingly sent to smooth things over. 

For it being only your second time meeting the man, this was far from the most opportune scenario. In fact, him showing up all sorrowful and apologetic for his shitty excuse of a son, in his navy blue suit and loose tie, made your already pathetic day all the more difficult to get through. 

Your whole relationship you had blamed every fault of your boyfriend on his absent, detached father. You’d heard plenty about the lack of childhood visits, quality time, and playing soccer that had plagued your partner’s life, and had found it quite easy and comforting to pile on every relationship problem you ever came across as the consequence of Javier Peña’s lack of responsibility and good parenting. 

What you didn’t expect, was to find that Javi Peña was a whole lot more normal and level headed than you anticipated. He was just a guy trying to make a good living and provide for his family. Sure, he was a little bit reserved, but he was only ever warm and sweet and even quite chatty with you. To be frank, you should have seen your boyfriend’s shitty behavior as a consequence of his insufferable mother from a mile away. God knew you weren’t expecting Peña Sr. to be the better of your two soon to be in laws. 

That being said, you would have never expected to be on your hands and knees, on what was supposed to be your marital bed, being pounded from behind by your ex soon to be father in-law. 

Because that's where you are now, eyes rolling to the back of your head thanks to the most intense pleasure you've ever felt. The drag of Javis cock against your walls has been building a steady heat in your belly, the stretch of him so perfect and delicious it has you pushing your hips back to meet his every thrust. 

Any other day a man like him wouldn’t have needed much to woo you– with his cut jaw, handsome features and those chocolate brown eyes you wished his son had inherited. Safe to say on a day like this one it took even less, just a few rubs on your back, a hand smoothing over your head and trailing down your waist, a few “pretty girls” and “poor things” and some fucking sympathy from someone from your boyfriends sorry family. 

Fucking pathetic. 

But Javier knows his son is pathetic, knows he is a good for nothing moron who doesn't even know what he was losing out on when he walked out on you.

“He’s a fuckin fool- look at this tight little pussy, squeezin’ me so fuckin good. Bet he didn’t fuck ya like this, huh baby? Didn’t make ya cum over and over, make ya scream… stupid fuckin boy..” Javier’s grip on your hips tightens on hearing your moan, and he curses under his breath when your pussy flutters around his cock. 

Your legs are threatening to give out under you, your knees tender from how long you've been leaning on them. Javier’s hand moves to grip the fabric of your veil, using it to pull your head back and make you face the mirror that's been teasing you all evening. “Look- Look at ya- fuckin cryin’ on my cock. ‘S the only reason ya’ shoulda’ be cryin’ in this pretty dress..” With drooping eyes you're faced with your own reflection– stains from your mascara running down your face now less thanks to the sorry of the afternoon and more thanks to the way Javi’s cock has been nudging your sweetspot. 

You watch your tits spill out of your beautiful silk dress, the fabric now disheveled and a far cry from the sophisticated, simplistic garment it once was. You can barely recognise it, but then again you can barely recognise your own reflection. “Look at that pretty little body- fuckin made for me.” 

“Yours-” you cut yourself off with a gasp, Javi’s hands squeeze your hips and your cheeks set ablaze at the way he looks at you when you catch it in the mirror. The whole sight is so debauched and depraved– you on your hands and knees for a man who could easily be mistaken for your father. But somehow it's even dirtier- the possibility of your ex finding out sends you into overdrive. 

The silk of your dress brushes against your hot skin, flipped lewdly up to reveal your bare ass, bunched at the waist, the straps drooping and threatening to fall. Javi pulls the zip down even further, watching as it hangs off your body, draped like fabric from a 15th century painting. 

Javi’s voice calls your attention back to the present moment, lewd words showing you he doesn't hold back the way his son does. “Gonna fill this tight little cunt up..” The stretch is so delicious between your legs, you feel the steady throb continue to tighten the coil inside you and you can’t help but moan. “Yeah, you want that? Want daddy to put a baby in you?” the thought makes you shiver, that name makes you shiver, has your cunt clenching around his cock. What an image- you, belly round with your father in laws child, well, your ex father in law. Unlike his son you were sure he would be the perfect husband, would bend you over ever surface in your picket fence house and fuck you just like he’s doing now. 

Deep, and hard and fast, just like you need it. Just like you've always needed it.. 

“Please daddy, want your babies, wanna be yours…” Your voice is so broken and wrecked you're afraid he can’t understand what you're even saying. To be honest you can’t be bothered much, it feels so good, his thick, hard cock feels so good pounding between your thighs there's little else you can keep your mind on. 

“Yeah? you like that sweetheart? we can play house..” you nod your head and his hand tightens its grip around your veil, exaggerating your movements, bending you to his will. “Wanna play house with daddy? can be my pretty little wife” you fist the sheets, pushing back against him with his every thrust. You do want that, you’ve always wanted that. And what better person to do it with. Sure, his wife always complained about how he was never around, but that's looking a lot more like a her problem– especially with the way Javi’s tip continues to kiss your sweet spot. 

“Yes daddy, please..”  

Javier lets go of your veil, and pushes his palm between your shoulder blades, forcing you down into the mattress till your cheek is pressed against the warm, fluffy duvet. One hand keeps you there, the other lands a quick spank to your ass and kneads at the flesh with a newfound desperation. “Won't be able to even say his goddamn name after I'm done with ya. Stupid boy doesnt know how to treat a pretty thing like you– so sweet, so gorgeous, so fucking smart. Too fucking good for him.” 

With your lips parted and breathing heavy you drool onto the covers, letting Javi pound you into the mattress and overshadow every other thought that dared cross your head earlier in the day. If his plan is to make you forget about anything that isn't him, it sure is working. You don't think you’d even want to sound out his incompetent son’s name after he’s done with you. 

As if he can read your mind his voice calls from behind you. “Want ya to be drippin with me.” the wet schick of his cock fucking into your tight, wet, hole reminds you of just how needy you are for him, and the prospect of having him dripping out of you– down your thighs, between your legs, leaving you all messy for him to come back and do it all over again, drives you absolutely insane. 

“He’s fuckin useless, just like his ma. But look at you, so fucking tight ‘round me, making all those pretty sounds, she fuckin’ wishes she was you.” His words have your cunt squeezing around his cock, and a lewd, pornographic moan slipping past your lips. “My girl’s gonna be the perfect lil’ mamma, aren’t ya, so fuckin’ pretty.” You would certainly like that- in fact you’re almost surprised with how appealing it sounds to you. 

“Gonna be perfect for you daddy, only for you.” your dress rides up even further, the front slipping further down. 

“Thats my fucking girl.” That growl of his sends shivers down your spine– possessive, and confident and dripping like honey from his lips. It was almost like it could send you over the edge by itself. The lewd creaking of the bedframe fills the room, the sound of skin on skin driving you wild. The way he handles you– firm and deft but gentle and passionate, it's nothing like his son. 

He’s nothing like his son. 

“Yeah, bet it feels good don’t it, bein’ fucked by a real man? Feel daddy so deep in ya? Nothin ever been that deep before, huh..” You shake your head ‘no’ and he coos at how pathetic you must sound, barely able to make a coherent sound, forget string together a whole sentence. 

“Make me go fuckin’ crazy, babygirl.” 

What he says is fucking filthy, there’s no denying, no justifying it. It makes you squirm, makes you even wetter, makes you want him even more. 

“Think you wanna go back to him? With daddy’s cum drippin between those pretty thighs, show him how a real man treats his girl?” 

“Gonna make ya beg him to stay, gonna talk some sense into him, just so daddy can have ya all to himself, ain't that right? You gonna sneak into daddy’s room in the middle of the night? All wet an’ achy? Beggin’ daddy to fuck ya how ya need?” 

“Wanna run away with me baby, live in a perfect little house, let daddy give ya his babies, fuck ya full’ve my cum every single night?” 

His hands roam your body, smoothing over your hips, reaching forward to squeeze at your breasts, pinching and kneading the flesh. He bends down to trail light kisses along your spine and the feeling is like nothing you’ve ever felt before. Your head twists side to side against the sheets as you squirm, each sensation like it's heightened to the maximum, the heaviness and the throb between your thighs at an all time high. 

You know you're close, you can’t hold it off much longer. Your cunt squeezes and your toes curl. You also know Javi won't last, you can feel him pulse against your swollen walls, can feel the way he desperately thrusts into you, pushes you further down against the mattress, grips your skin with that renewed fervor, with the desperation of doing anything to hold on to the incredible sensation. 

“Come for me, babygirl, come for daddy, show daddy how much ya needed this, show daddy how bad ya need his cock.” 

Your legs part even further under you, if that's even physically possible, your entire upper body being smashed into the mattress. You call out Javi’s name, followed by a string of desperate, strained, whiny daddy daddy daddy’s. 

With a strangled moan that's partially muffled by the covers you come undone, your head spins and your heart pounds in your chest, you feel yourself gush and clamp down around his cock. You feel Javi’s hips stutter behind you and his cock throb against your wet walls. The feeling only prologues and intensifies your orgasm, your body going slack and eyes rolling back into your head. 

“Please daddy, need your cum, please, give it to me..” 

Javi’s groans catch your attention as you come down from your high, still reeling from the aftershocks when you feel his cock twitch inside you and paint your walls with his hot spend. Your words are strained and slurred, but they clearly get the job done. You shiver and press your ass back against him to meet his stuttery, sloppy thrusts, and bite your lip when you feel him tighten his grip on your hip, feel him land a final spank to your ass for good measure as he slows down. 

You keep your ass in the air, face still pressed against the mattress as Javi pulls out. You hear him mutter a few strained curses under his breath as he does, and catch him looking between your legs to see his spend obscenely leak out of your used hole. He reaches his fingers to rub against your messy folds and you whine, feel him gather up your juices and push them back inside your cunt in a way that has you almost cumming right there again. 

Your dress is still pooled at your waist and he unzips it entirely, sneaking his hands under your thighs and flipping you over and yanking you towards him. 

“You really want daddy’s babies?” Your head falls back against the bed when you feel his hand cup your cunt, rub your messy, swollen folds with the calloused tips of his fingers. You barely manage to nod. 

“Then I ain’t done with ya yet pretty girl.” You tilt your chin to catch his gaze, now in nothing but your stupid little wedding veil. You’re not sure about the best day of your life, but this sure as hell contends for one of the best nights. 

You can be my daddy tonight-night-night

I'm neon phosphorescent

Open like a Christmas present, oh

You can be my daddy tonight-night-night

If you're seeking heaven

Then you wanna come and get it alright

Be my daddy tonight

What's up what's up

What's up what's up

Be my daddy be my daddy

Be my daddy be my, be my daddy tonight

AHHHHH feel like I’m going to hell for this one. Thanks so much for reading!! Please please please let me know what you think. I’d love to know your thoughts!!! Thank you to everyone who engages with my work, you keep me writing!! 💗🐝

[kyunniebuns]

˗ˏˋ Entry : 050 - Lover! HSR Men x Fem! Reader: Can't sleep at night.... ♡ ˎˊ˗

꒰ Caelus, Aventurine, Sunday, Dan Heng ꒱

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚ ℂ𝕒𝕖𝕝𝕦𝕤 ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

"Alright, who is begging to be whooped by my bat—" Caelus announces, his voice full of conviction as he held his bat until his gaze lowered down to see your sorry little state clutching a miniature plushie of him you got from the trailblaze stern's merchandise. "O-oh, babe!"

He immediately panics and throws away the bat he was ready to swing at a moment's notice.

"I uhm... Heh!" He scratches the back of his head before taking your hand. "What's wrong? It's really late now, did you have a nightmare?"

"No... Not really" You slump, entirely upset. "I watched a sad movie and now I can't sleep."

"... Ah, that old film Mr. Yang recommended?" Caelus hums thoughtfully, "Wanna hit the hay with me then? My new room is really big and I got new pillows!"

"Please" You nod sheepishly as your boyfriend guides you inside the upturned storeroom he spent days decorating and renovating.

It was a sight to behold knowing how empty and barren the place was until the astral express team decided to give him the space. Now Caelus had a whole paradise to himself. A kitchen, his own bathroom, a weapon station, and even his massive gaming area that he spent hours on end when the crew isn't off doing training or he's joining March on whatever stupidity to stress Dan Heng and Sunday with since the former head of the oak family has decided to hitchhike for a little while.

"Wanna talk about the movie?" Caelus asks as he kisses your plump cheek so you would look at him. "Or is it too sad?"

You shook your head, not wanting to recall the film that made you look at the wall and contemplate life. Mr. Yang is truly cruel for suggesting such a sad movie.

"Hm..." He ponders, trying to recall the contents of the book he asked from Dan Heng about cheering up your girlfriend who is clearly upset.

Now that he thinks about it, the contents of that book is too cringey and will probably not help you at all.

"Anything you want me to do?" He gently ruffles the side of your head.

"Sunday told me he taught you some voice thingies" You say, your eyes glimmering as you look up at his golden orbs.

"Well, uhm... Err... About that" A dust of pink tinges on his fair cheeks.

He wanted to surprise you with a love song on your anniversary so he secretly started asking voice lessons from him, but maybe he should have told the halovian man that it's for a surprise.

"You will, right?... Right?" You nod expectantly, making Caelus feel all the more helpless as he can't resist his lover.

"Alright, alright" He nods as he clears his throat.

"You can do it, Caelus. Sunday said your voice is really good, just relax" He tells himself.

He needed a bit more time as he developed the courage, but eventually he started humming. He remembered Sunday's lessons well after all, he should be fine.

Caelus kept humming for a while until he noticed you completely passed out in his arms and nuzzling his chest. He silently screamed a victorious howl, crying of joy and thanking Sunday for joining the astral express and for the free singing lessons.

Now he knows the perfect way of coaxing you to sleep without using unconventional methods. The strict guidance he underwent from Sunday is all not in vain.

After all, he has his cute girlfriend snuggled up against him with a miniature plushie version of himself in her arms. What more can he ask for?

So gently, he squeezed you in his arms while kissing your cheek.

"Goodnight, baby. I hope you dream pleasant dreams"

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚ 𝔸𝕧𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕖 ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

Aventurine has just finished working on his remaining paperworks for the evening until there was a knock on his office, he lazily called out to come in and perked up at the sight if your wearing the pajamas he bought for you the other day.

"Ah, look at you, darling. I knew the limited edition one made of fine silk suits your cute figure, come come. I want to admire you more." Aventurine urges you to come over.

And once you were near enough, he perched you on his lap and peppered your pretty face with kisses.

"It's bedtime now, though, why are you still awake, hm?" He inquires as he strokes the top of your head.

"Can't sleep..." You complain softly as Aventurine presses his lips on your forehead.

"Mm, is it because you need me by your ride to sleep?" He teases.

"Mhm..." You nod sheepishly, feeling childish for such a demand.

"Ah, how cute!" Aventurine muses, giving you another plethora of kisses. "I would love to join you in bed, but as you can see, the ipc is working me to the bone again and I have just returned from break"

He gestures to the pikes of paperwork still on his desk and open documents on the screen.

"Can I stay here then?" You ask, playing with his necktie. "I'll be good, I promise"

"Whatever makes your pretty little head happy, dearest" The signonian man hums, pulling your head to the crook of his neck as a way to coax you into sleeping.

The room soon falls into silence, with the exception of Aventurine's writing and keyboard typings. A sweet aroma of wood and citrus permeates through his office, making the whole place even more cozier than it already is.

And soon, you would find yourself lost in dreamland in your beloved's arms.

It took him a while to notice, but Aventurine soon realizes you're completely asleep. He smiles gently, his heterochromatic eyes gazing so lovingly at your face.

He never really thought he would be holding you like this again given all the trouble he went through in penacony. Not to mention, he was dead set on disappearing there until a knight of beauty rescued him from hell.

Aventurine is not taking another chance at being so reckless again knowing that someone as precious as you is waiting for him at home. And how could he leave you when you're this adorable and clingy? He would rather be humiliated than ever make you upset again.

So once again, he kisses your forehead— A lingering one this time as a way to bless you in your sleep.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚ 𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕕𝕒𝕪 ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

Sunday's days are finally peaceful and stress-free ever since he became a runaway fugitive in Penacony. Who knew staying in the astral express can bless him with such clarity and tranquility? He's never had his guard down like this when he was the head of the oak family. He always presented himself as the most perfect person as he can be.

But now, he is dressed in an outfit that is asymmetrical. He lives in a space where there is a mess here and there that he cannot help but tidy up as a way to help pompom. It's quite awkward to reside in the train that bodyslammed him multiple times when he was at the peak of insanity. But this will do. Yes. This will do. Sunday is, after all, still adjusting to the life in the astral express, the astral express that you are also part of.

"Sunny?..." You call out to him as he arranges some books that he borrowed from Dan Heng as a way to pass the time.

"Dearest." The halovian smiles lovingly, putting down the books he is holding and gesturing you to his bed so he can sit you down. "My love, if you sleep this late then you will he moody in the morning again"

He cups your cheek gently, his wings fluttering softly as he touches your skin.

"I just can't sleep... I was scared you're still missing" You murmur, making his heart ache.

"I told you, it's alright now. I'm hitchhiking here" He reassures you before tucking you in his sheets. "I promised you that I will protect you as I give my services to the astral express, you needn't be so distressed."

He then ponders for a while, "Shall I hum you a tune then? My sister used to be like you when she has trouble resting. While I would normally suggest that we listen to her albums, it seems that my love needs 'Sunny'— More right now."

It was awkward to use that nickname, but he would make an exception for his beloved.

"Mhm..." You nod, intertwining your fingers together.

Sunday started to hum a lullaby he used to coax Robin with when they were little. A soft, steady and melancholic lullaby his mother taught him when he was younger. It was one of the few things he cherishes from her. Though her departure is abrupt and sudden, Sunday chooses to remember all the joyous memories he has given him and his baby sister.

And part of that way is singing you the lullaby she would sing. It never fails to soothe you after all.

See?

Your already breathing so slowly. Your chest would rise and fall in a steady manner and he would eventually stop.

"There we go, my little bird" Sunday cooes, kissing your forehead. "Don't worry about me anymore. I will stay by your side as long as you permit me to. I want to see the stars with you a bit longer, so rest well."

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚ 𝔻𝕒𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕟𝕘 ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

"Yes?..." Dan Heng answers the door and sees you fidgeting with your little fingers.

"Hi..." You awkwardly greet him.

"..." The vidyadhara steps aside, a silent way of inviting you in since he knew what is going on.

"Am I bothering you?" You ask, glancing at the paperwork on his desk scattered around.

"No, I was finished anyway" Dan Heng shakes his head, "Ignore the papers. I was just reviewing some stuff regarding our recent expenses,"

His blue eyes then glance down at you who is holding a teddy bear he gave you as a present on your birthday. The sight softens his heart.

He lifted his blanket, tipping his head over to it so you can snuggle in.

Once you are settled, Dan Heng tucks you in before climbing in himself.

"Aren't you uncomfortable with my bed?" He inquires, softly patting your hip to coax you into sleep. "I don't have a comfortable mattress like March and Caelus."

"But yours is the warmest" You shake your head.

"Is that so?" He smiles softly, "Shall I tell you a bedtime story the elders tell the children then?"

"Stories?" You perk up at the suggestion.

The stories from the xianzhou loufu are always fascinating and Dan Heng had a talent for story-telling. Maybe it's because of the fact that he loves reading books that he has a knack for it.

He starts telling you the folklore that he finds fascinating. His voice is low but not too quiet, he expresses the right emotions as needed and fluctuates his voice to immerse you further in the story.

It never fails to amuse Dan Heng on the precious way your eyes would light up at the climax of the story and when he tells you the twists.

You are always so amazed by the folk lore he tells like a little girl.

By the end of the story, you are ironically more exhausted than he is as you struggle to keep your eyes open.

"What a fun and sad story" You yawn, "Are stories from the xianzhou loufu always full of tragedy?"

"Not really, I just chose this story in particular for tonight" He kisses your forehead as a way to apologize, "I'll tell you a happier one next time then, forgive me for this one."

"Nuh-uh... It's okay" You shake your head as your eyes finally close. "I like Dan Heng's stories..."

And just like that, you are asleep in the vidyadhara's arms— Warming his heart all the more at the sight of you so snuggled up on him.

Truth be told, Dan Heng never thought there would come a day wherein he would ever have a lover. He's always busy attending to the data bank and taking care of March and Caelus to spare them from their stupidity. There are times where he is just so over them and lets them be stupid though just so they can have a taste of their medicine.

But with you? He would never do that.

Dan Heng will always keep you out of danger. He wont necessarily direct you to what not to do or what to— But he will be by your side and ready to extend a guiding hand should you actually need him.

Every boyfriend wants to cherish his dearest darling.

And Dan Heng is no exception to that.

Telling you bedtime stories is just one of the few duties he enjoys doing as your lover and he silently hopes that you keep coming to him to hear all about his culture that he adores.

He presses his lips on yours, applying a chaste kiss before muttering in his native tongue— A silent oath that vidyadharas have to their fated ones. An oath that he binds himself to you. To his beloved. To the one who owns his heart.

꒰ 🪼 A/N: Moshi moshi (⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠♡, this is my official hsr fanfic heuehshab. These four are my most fave in the game currently and I couldn't resist the idea of bedtime with my boys(⁠*⁠´⁠ω⁠｀⁠*⁠), so here! This is my first official offering and to many more. I will add a few more lovers ofc, but I wanted to kickstart it off with these bbs in particular( ∩´͈ ᐜ `͈∩). ꒱

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧: ~♡ —! stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

[goldsainz]

# OP81 — 2 HANDS !

MASTERLIST !

001. SUMMARY !

✯ you and oscar announce your relationship by having him feature in your music video.

002. NOTE !

✯ i kinda went crazy with the editing at the beginning, but i loved doing it. might be the best part actually.

liked by landonorris, ynfan1 and 62,839 others

f1gossip Well, there we have it. After some speculation it seems that our resident under-the-radar f1 driver is ready to confirm his relationship with the pop star of the moment, YN.

view all 942 comments

user1 wait didn’t lando say she was a “cutie” once?

⤷ ynfan2 yes😭

⤷ user1 yikes that’s awkward

oscarfan1 THATS MY DRIVER RIGHT THERE

ynfan3 my jaw actually dropped

user2 WAIT WHY DID LANDO LIKE THIS

⤷ f1gossip he’s always lurking👀

oscarfan2 i’m speechless

oscarfan3 yeah i don’t think he will actually appear

ynfan4 if this is just a pr stunt i will be so mad

oscarfan4 lando basically confirming this is pure gold

⤷ ynfan5 messy is his middle name

liked by mclaren, logansargeant and 1,056,237 others

oscarpiastri Very fun to be “guy who eats cereal in background”. Stream 2 Hands 🧡

view all 15,843 comments

yourusername you were also a professional driver!!!!

⤷ oscarpiastri That’s just a side hustle

oscarfan21 okay so they’re def together

ynfan21 my two obsessions have crossed

oscarfan22 logan liked🥹

oscarfan23 i wasn’t ready

⤷ oscarfan24 was anyone???? i’m still trying to catch my breath

ynfan22 this is how boyfriends should post.

oscarfan25 yn being front and center is taking me out

oscarfan26 using an orange mclaren... i see you yn

ynfan23 im officialy obsessed

oscarfan27 best f1 couple idc

oscarpiastri and yourusername updated their instagram stories!

liked by selenagomez, iamrebeccad and 2,948,056 others

yourusername melbourne, i think i’m in love with you

view all 41,208 comments

oscarpiastri Amazing show

⤷ yourusername i aim to please

ynfan31 we lost her 💔

ynfan32 WHATTTTT

ynfan33 chat i don’t think the caption is about melbourne

⤷ oscarfan31 FORGET THE CAPTION SHE POSTED HIM

oscarfan32 other wags liking this is everything to me

ynfan34 how do i carry on after this

hattiepiastri STUNNING …and he’s there too

⤷ yourusername ugh i know

⤷ oscarpiastri ?

⤷ yourusername baby stay out of our business

⤷ nicolepiastri Oscar, I taught you better than this

oscarfan33 BABY???? HATTIE X YN???

ynfan35 i’m a hardcore fan of this relationship already

[hydrobunny]

never took me quite where you do

tags: established relationship, fluff, silliness

a/n: based on king of my heart. (which was also my eras surprise song!!)

--------------------------------------------------------

"you haven't had a girlfriend?" you ask, surprise coloring your voice.

rin itoshi stares at you like you've suddenly got infinitely stupider. "not before you."

"that's," you start, then stop. actually, now that you're really thinking about it, it does make sense. "you know what, yeah. seems about right."

offense glares in his eyes as he leans away from you. "the hell does that mean?"

you raise your brows. "what do you think, rin?"

he fully untangles his limbs from yours at that, shoving himself off of the couch. you protest at his motion - a little halfheartedly, but the effort is there .

standing up to his full height, rin itoshi glares down at you.

you blink up at him, smiling with all the innocence you can muster. "yes?"

"do you know how much fan mail i get?" he grits out. "how many chocolates i've gotten on valentine's?"

it takes quite a lot of effort for you to not start laughing. "i do know how popular you are, yes. you should see the edits on tiktok."

"so why-" rin falters. "edits?"

"go on."

it takes him a second. "i could've had a girlfriend if i wanted to," he says at last. "i just didn't."

you nod, still biting back a smile. "mhm. i'm sure all the girls would've loved you after seeing that personality of yours." you scoot over, offering up the space on the couch again.

rin continues to stare, but you can see his will weakening. "not like anyone wanted to date your lukewarm ass either," he says with a finality.

you snort. "i thought you grew out of that word."

he rolls his eyes.

"also- factually untrue. i've had boyfriends before."

and rin's entire demeanor switches. "what?"

you wave your hand, dismissive. "not like a lot, but. an average amount to have for a high schooler, i think. none of it was ever serious. not like you," you grin.

rin doesn't return it. genuine shock bleeds through his face; he turns on his heel. "i'm going to bed."

"wha- rin?"

forty five minutes later, you breeze into your shared bedroom. your teeth are freshly brushed, your skin lotioned, and you're almost ready for a good night's sleep.

"are you actually still mad about- what the hell are you doing?"

rin freezes, one hand still on the computer mouse. from your vantage point, you can see every pixel on that screen.

"is that my high school boyfriend?"

he turns in the swivel chair, very clearly not in bed. the classic 'itoshi indifference,' as you've coined it, masks itself over his face.

you step closer. "rin. is that, or is that not, the instagram profile of my ex."

he nods, slowly.

"can i ask why you're looking at his profile?"

he begins to shake his head, and then changes his mind (a good choice). but rin itoshi has never been too good at keeping himself calm-

"he's unemployed."

there's a beat of silence.

"sorry?"

"jobless. a leech on society. useless as a human being," rin continues. "a complete ass of himself, basically."

you stare at him. he stares at you. and then-

you burst out laughing. "are you serious?"

rin seems surprised by your reaction. it makes you laugh even harder.

"oh my god- you've been stalking his socials? for the last, like, hour?' you broke your stupid athlete sleep schedule for this?" there are genuine tears welling in the corner of your eyes. "for a guy i dated years ago?"

a little self-conscious now, rin stands up. "i was trying to sleep for the first twenty minutes. after that.." he trails off.

and you slam into him with a hug, still laughing. "i love you so much."

he stiffens at the initial contact, but gives into your touch the moment after. "i love you too?"

you hum into his ear. "they don't matter anymore. you know that, right? they never did- not seriously enough. you're the only one."

rin doesn't reply.

"and i know you could have any girl you wanted. but that doesn't matter to me. because you want me. and i will never get enough of you, rin itoshi."

his voice is a low murmur. "me neither. no one's ever compared to you."

and he presses a kiss onto your lips, and it's better than anything you've ever had.

[teambyler]

My video "A LAWYER'S EVIDENCE that Mike and Will become a romantic pair in Stranger Things" is out!

Many of you have followed me ( @teambyler ) or read my essays analyzing Byler (I've linked some of the most-shared ones below). I am actually also a LAWYER who has a YouTube channel called RONALD OFF THE RECORD, and I just released my big video on Byler! (I also have another YouTube channel with 45K subscribers that I mention in the video)

I'm prepared to put my professional reputation as a lawyer on the line to comment on a piece of science fiction, because goddammit this is important to me! It is not "delusional" to think Will and Mike will become a couple, and there is nothing wrong with you if want it to happen! This is a video essay I've been planning for at least SIX MONTHS, and I put a lot of work into it. Please share, and please leave comments. Enjoy! =D

0:00 Why this video 1:38 Hate for Byler on the internet 10:16 Case for Mileven 15:21 Case for Byler: Starting premises 17:56 If Will were a girl… 25:30 The evidence! 29:05 EXHIBIT A: The Snow Ball 31:34 B: Mike's reactions to El and Will being upset 34:21 C: Season 3 ending montage 39:16 D: Airport reunion 47:51 E: Rink-O-Mania argument 51:28 F: Heteronormativity, audience expectations 58:25 G: Throwing away the letter 59:55 H: 2nd heart-to-heart scene 1:05:43 I: Mike can't say he loves El 1:13:27 J: Platonic reunion 1:15:12 K: Will's role convincing Mike to say "I love you" 1:20:08 L: Effect of the "love confession" on El 1:39:54 M: The Painting Lie 1:43:22 Honorable mentions 1:45:27 Non-diegetic evidence 2:01:23 Actor statements 2:10:34 NOT how you write an unrequited love story 2:16:07 Why Byler SHOULD happen (queerbaiting, etc.) 2:28:21 A more powerful story 2:35:45 A personal note

I'm now making this my new pinned post, so I'll list a few of my posts here for people to check out.

ADDITIONS: -28:00 On "We should normalize same-sex friends being affectionate, they don't have to be gay," I should have been clearer. HOMOPHOBIA is the reason for that stigma. Straight friends feeling like they can be affectionate in our society HAS to include normalizing LGBT+ people. -1:16:55 I should've said this more clearly: Will reminded Mike that who HE is, HIS unique qualities, make him worthy of love and make El love him, not dumb luck. And Will of course could convey that because Will loves the actual nerd MIke and everything he is. -1:17:06 Mike making El "not feel like a mistake" doesn't fit El, because she says that Mike looks at her "like I'm a monster, too". Nor did she "push you away because she was afraid of losing you". That's Will, not El. Mike felt love because Will was describing himself. -1:52:36 I forgot to mention that, in the original Nina opera, Nina's lover is ALIVE and DOES return. The Duffers changed the story so that Nina's lover does NOT return, to further suggest Mike won't return! -2:35:22 I'm kicking myself for not being more specific about Mike and Will being heroes in more than one way: I think the theme of bullying from s1 will return, with Will (and also Mike) having to face bullying for being boyfriends in Hawkins.

EDIT: I hit 1000 subs, only to discover THIS VIDEO CANNOT BE MONETIZED. ='( I think I put over 100 hours of work in this video, and this isn't sustainable for me unless I get support. This also means I can't make public videos with the same quality -- using show clips and music makes a stronger impact. I've considered deleting and reposting an edit, but that would losing all the wonderful comments and CUTTING OUT THE LAST SCENE. ='( ='( ='( NO. FUCKING. WAY.

So this is what'll happen: future videos NOT use clips and music to the same extent, except versions I post on my Patreon. And I need Patrons because I don't make money as a social-justice lawyer, and rely on that plus YouTube ads. Here's the Patreon link! (Any future video will be clipped, with the full version on Patreon) https://www.patreon.com/c/theruleslawyer

Some other @teambyler posts:

Mike was saying "I love you" to Will

Questions to ask if ever you have Byler doubt

How the Duffers have set Will up to have a happy ending in Season 5

The most heartbreaking way Byler can culminate (and how I predict it will) (I know this is less likely than an "escape from Camazotz" possession scenario, but I still want this to happen =D )

How the Duffers likely will make the general audience AWARE of Byler and CHEER for Byler

-teambyler

[kazoo-world]

okay. i debated not posting this because I was worried I’d get death threats (that says a lot doesn’t it) but it needs to be said, because its upsetting me.

a woman who publicly says she feels very sane and has “never been to therapy” and who breaks up with her boyfriend in part because he can’t just “”get over”” his depression to love her the way she wants/needs does not.

I repeat, does not.

get to use the imagery she did in her fortnight video.

I’ve been seeing gifsets and screenshots all day of her chained to a bed but ~aesthetic~ and being fed a pill after a cheeky side eye and strapped to a glamourfied ECT machine and no one has said anything about it so I will. those images are genuinely triggering for me.

people have been restrained, forcefed pills, and given electroconvulsive therapy or subjected to the electric chair for severe mental illness against their will. these are not fun props anyone gets to throw around to express that they feel depressed or in a “manic phase” or like they were “raised in an asylum.”

she doesn’t know how a real asylum fried my grandmother’s brain or real cops restrained me because I was psychotic and manic. she doesn’t know what it feels like to be dehumanised that way.

do better. demand she do better, too.

edit: I say that this content is triggering to say that it causes real harm. I do still have a responsibility to myself to curate an internet experience for myself. this does not negate her responsibility to avoid replicating harmful tropes in art which is deeply influential. she does not get to co-opt institutionalization or psychiatric violence as a romanticized aesthetic or as a metaphor because real people like myself have suffered greatly under the things she is representing as glamorous or cool. institutionalization silences and violates mentally ill people in a way that marginalizes them, and that experience should be treated with sensitivity and care rather than being commodified to reduce stigma. if she had experienced these things, I might feel differently, but other ableist content on the record and her statements on her life and art indicate otherwise. she is a woman with immense privilege and power and should not be using that privilege and power to punch down on mental illness.

edit 2: I want you all to know I have seen your criticism. I will not edit the post but I do respect that she has had mental health struggles since that outdated quote. That is my mistake, I own that. My apologies.

However, mental health struggles =/ experience with psychiatric violence. Experiences of mental illness are heterogenous. Aestheticizing, romanticizing, and glamourizing mental hospitals is straight up gross regardless of your experience with mental illness. It’s tasteless and offensive.

I do understand metaphors. I think that her calling her life an asylum as a metaphor is in poor taste. I think her representing her relationship struggles with the imagery of a mental institution is insensitive given the impacts that real asylums and mental hospitals have had on my life and the lives of many others like me, so I had to say something about it.

It’s ableist to assume that critics of your fav “can’t read”, “don’t understand a metaphor” or “don’t have brains” when they clearly demonstrate that they are thinking critically. Do better.

[joelscurls]

I wanna show you off

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

words: 4.1k

summary: The women who live in your building aren't subtle in their hatred for you — or their affection for your boyfriend, Joel. You decide to set them straight.

warnings: 18+ minors dni, porn with plot, no outbreak, established relationship, implied age gap, horrible neighbors, general cattiness, all the ladies want Joel, alcohol consumption, fluff, explicit smut, possessive!reader, exhibitionism, dirty talk, oral (m receiving), facefucking, unprotected piv, creampie, one (1) spank, use of pet names (baby, angel, darlin', etc.), I think that's all? lmk if I missed anything!

a/n: idk what happened. I saw one too many tiktok edits set to the song agora hills by doja cat and blacked out. anyway, enjoy!

If it weren’t for your rent-controlled apartment with a perfect view of the downtown skyline, you would’ve moved out of your building by now.

Your neighbors don’t like you. You’re certain of it. You can tell by the way the ladies stick their noses up at you in the elevator and whisper to each other the second they think you’re out of earshot.

It had started, you suspect, because of your age. You’re a lot younger than all of the other residents here, your apartment left to you by your grandmother after she passed away.

The building is prime real estate, situated in the heart of one of the city’s most desirable neighborhoods. Most of the people who live here have done so for ten, twenty, even thirty years. And it seems that time has festered a sort of social hierarchy: one which places you at the very bottom.

You shouldn’t care. And you hadn’t, for a while. But their eyes have started to feel like daggers, pointed directly at you at all times, and you feel as if you can’t even enter the building without judgment.

You’re not a bad neighbor. You’re not. You’d learned through living in a dormitory in college how thin shared walls can be, and, as a result, the proper volume at which to keep your music; how you should always be cautious to not let your door slam closed on the way in; that you should never vacuum after eight pm or before eight am.

You never leave trash in the hallway, and you park your car only in your allotted spot, despite the fact that it’s the farthest away from the building.

Even so, the lack of weathering in your face makes them look at you like you’re less, like you’re a greedy little thing who has taken something she isn’t worthy of.

It’s the same way they look at you when they see you with your boyfriend, Joel, for the first time.

They leer when you walk into the foyer, hand-in-hand with an older man. He’s handsome, rugged, something out of Nicholas Sparks novel. And you’re you.

Joel thinks you’re being paranoid at first, says they couldn’t possibly hate such a sweet, friendly girl. The girl he loves so damn much. But it doesn’t take long for him to notice it too: the glares, the scoffs, the misplaced judgment — never set in his direction, only ever yours.

One Sunday afternoon, as he sits on your couch watching the Cowboys game with a sweating bottle of beer in his hand, you step out to grab your mail. You’re close to tears when you return, flinging the door open, envelopes slipping from your trembling fingers. 

He leaps up as soon as he catches sight of your face. Your expression is stuck somewhere between sadness and rage, bottom lip tucked between your teeth so firmly he worries you’ll draw blood.

“I hate them,” you sob as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you against his broad chest. You’re wetting his shirt, the one he just bought the other day. But he won’t let you lift your head. If anything, he holds you tighter.

“Wanna tell me what happened, darlin?” he asks, leading you toward the couch. You sit down together, your body still wrapped in his, and you groan.

“It’s stupid.” Your voice is muffled by cotton. He loosens his grip on you only enough to let you turn your face. “I was getting my mail, and they were down in the lobby,” you sniff. “The woman who lives right next door – the one with the outdated perm, and the one across the hall with the yippy little dog.”

“Mhm,” Joel soothes, running his thumb gently along the tense line of your jaw. “Did they say somethin’ to you?”

You huff. “No, not to me. They didn’t see me there.”

Their hushed voices still ring in your head like a fire alarm in need of new batteries: relentless, infuriating.

Don’t know what in the world a handsome gentleman like that is doing with a little girl like her. You’re tellin’ me. What a shame. Such a young thing – she can’t possibly know how to handle a man like that. He needs a woman his own age!

“They said I’m not good for you,” you weep. “That I’m too young. That I — I c-can’t be what you need.”

“Darlin,” Joel drawls. He fishes the tv remote off of the coffee table and flicks the screen off. Drops it somewhere next to him on the cushion. The apartment is noticeably quiet now, apart from your shaky breaths and the dull drone of an idling truck engine from the street below.

“You know I love you, right?” 

You sniff again. Nod. 

“I don’t give a shit if people think you’re too young for me,” he huffs. “You’re a grown woman. You give me everything I could possibly need and then some.”

“Yeah?” you squeak. You know deep down that Joel wouldn’t stay with you if he had any reservations about any aspect of your relationship. But after months of no reprieve from stinging glares and brash insults, you feel as if you’ve been broken down, reduced to an anxious, overwrought version of yourself. 

Joel repositions himself, sprawling back on the couch and pulling you with him so that you’re laying against him. “Yeah,” he repeats, stroking your hair. He tucks a loose strand behind your ear, away from your glassy eyes. “Those ladies can get their asses in line.” 

You laugh, then — a real, genuine laugh — the kind that Joel can somehow always pull out of you, even in the most inopportune of times.

You’re so grateful for him, for his innate ability to calm you down when it feels like the world is crumbling below your feet. Grateful that he’s yours.

You lift your head. Prop yourself up by the elbow on Joel’s thigh. Wipe away the lingering wet on your cheeks with a deep, settling breath. 

“Does it stroke your ego, having a fan club of women who wanna fuck you?”

He smirks. Pulls you closer to him with a hand cradling your face. 

“Maybe a little,” he whispers, his lips ghosting yours. “Does it stroke your ego, bein’ the only one who gets to fuck me?” 

And in truth, it does. You’re the only one who knows where he likes to be kissed, how he likes his cock stroked, how to make him cum embarrassingly quick with just your mouth.

You’ve learned him intimately, every inch of him.  Ruined him for any other woman.

So in a fucked up kind of way — it does.

“Yeah,” you admit. You suck his bottom lip into your mouth, silently reveling in the way he immediately moans, the way he bends to you.

“These all mine?” You bring a finger to his lips, sputter on a shaky exhale when he unexpectedly parts them and sucks the digit into his mouth.

“Mhm,” he hums around you, takes your free hand in his and guides it down his body, across the expanse of his torso, the plush of his belly, pausing when you reach his crotch. 

Your pulse quickens, then, a dull throb forming at the base of your neck. You extricate your finger from his mouth with a gentle pop.

“This too,” he whispers, canting his hips up toward the flat of your palm.

He’s half-hard, his clothed bulge pleading for attention. But he pulls your hand away quickly, not letting himself get carried away at the feeling of your fingers grazing him through denim. 

Instead, he re-situates it against his chest so that you can feel his heartbeat where it hammers under skin, against flesh and bone. “This is all yours too,” he says, voice so low it reverberates in your skull. 

“All of it — all of me. Don’t gotta worry your pretty little head with anythin’ anyone else has to say about the matter. Got it?”

His words are spoken with so much conviction that you have no choice but to believe them, to let them stick in your brain like anchors in sand: deep and immovable.

Yours, yours, yours. 

And nobody else’s.

“Yeah,” you smile into the column of his neck, inhaling his scent: mostly him, but with notes of you. 

“Got it.”

It’s two weeks later when she makes a move on him: the woman with the perm. Joel is taken aback by her boldness, with you just a few feet away, digging your key into the lock of your mailbox. 

“You must work with your hands,” she purrs, grabbing one of his wrists and examining his calloused fingers with such little integrity, his mouth actually slips open at the unabashedness of it all. 

“Uh-”

“I’m Sheila,” she hums, raking her fingers through tight, blonde curls. “And you are?”

“Joel,” he grunts noncommittally. Wrenches his arm back. He doesn’t miss the way her eyebrows twitch in offense. 

But she’s insatiable, this woman. She bounces back like a rubber band, not-so-subtly pushing her breasts together, the zip of her sweatshirt slipping down an inch and her mouth curving into a salacious grin.

You just about stop dead in your tracks when you round the corner to the lobby, junk mail in hand, and see her, her body turned towards Joel’s, chest pushed out and hip popped. She has a bedazzled tote bag full of groceries slung over her shoulder, a head of leafy greens poking out the top.

“Hi neighbor!” she smiles mockingly at you, all lipstick-stained teeth, when you sidle up to Joel. “I was just telling your friend here what nice, strong arms he has.” She’s not looking at you, eyes locked firmly on Joel’s biceps, nearly drooling at the sight of him. 

Heat spools behind your ears, red-hot.

“Not her friend,” Joel corrects before you can. “‘M her boyfriend.”

“Oh,” she says. “Boyfriend.” Her lips wrap loosely around the word, like it’s some fanciful thing. “You’re too old to be someone’s boyfriend.” 

Joel takes a step away from her, closer to you, and splays a steadying hand across your back. “Man-friend, then.” 

You laugh, not because it’s funny, but because this entire conversation is fucking awkward. 

Sheila pays you no attention.

“Well,” she sighs, overtly staring at the exposed skin of Joel’s chest, where the top two buttons of his flannel are undone, “Joel, if you’re ever lookin’ for a good meal, I’m just next door.” She flits her eyes up to his and smirks. “Know a big man like you has gotta eat.”

Your vision blurs scarlet. 

Joel is equally as infuriated. The disrespect of this woman, to so openly flirt with him in front of you. His fists ball tightly at his sides. 

“Thanks, but no thanks,” he gruffs. “Anyway, nice to meet ya ma’am-“

“Sheila,” she reminds him. 

“Sheila,” he repeats, only to appease her. He turns to you, squeezing your waist affectionately. “We should probably get goin’, right sweetheart?”

You’re still fuming, barely able to register Joel’s voice next to you through the thick haze of pure fury clouding your mind, but you manage to nod, spit out a hurried yeah.

And with that, Joel is turning on his heels, pulling you with him toward the elevators. You don’t dare look back at her, but you can feel her eyes boring a hole in the back of your head. 

Her footfall fades into the mailroom and you breathe a minuscule sigh of relief. At least she’s out of your sight.

“Please just move in with me,” Joel begs when you’re finally behind closed metal doors, the inspection plaque situated above the buttons suddenly extremely interesting as you try to focus on not thinking about setting this woman’s apartment on fire.

You’ve talked about living together a few times. It’s just — you’ve never considered it so seriously until right now. 

“I can’t let them win,” you mutter, agitated. 

You hate how they’ve made you feel, like you’re some helpless animal tucked in the corner, hiding from them. Just waiting for the next ambush. 

With the passing of each floor, your anger simmers, bubbles into a silent rage in your stomach, one which threatens to boil over at the next underestimation of Joel’s devotion to you. You need to make it known, once and for all, that he’s yours. 

Words from your grandmother play on a loop in your head, ones she repeated to you often when you were a child: if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all. 

And then you have a thought — a devious thought — maybe you don’t have to say anything to get your point across. Not to them, anyway.

Your mouth is on Joel the second you’re back inside the four walls of your own apartment, slotting against his pulse point and sucking a desperate bruise there.

He’s not expecting it — why would he be? You’ve just been seething the entire elevator ride up to your floor, the entire walk down the long, winding hallway to your unit. He’d practically been able to see the steam billowing from your ears. 

So the switch-up is more than a bit dizzying, to say the least.

“Whoa, darlin’,” he pants, his large hands draping over your shoulders. “What are you-”

“Joel.” Your voice is stern; it demands his attention. “Do you trust me?” 

Your hand trails down his body languidly, in a straight line to the waistband of his jeans. And fuck, of course he trusts you — more than anyone. But this is wrong, fucked up, for you to make him feel good when you’ve been made to feel so small these past few minutes. 

Still, his cock doesn’t get the memo, twitching in his jeans as you place another open-mouthed kiss on the underside of his jaw, your fingers beginning to fiddle with his belt buckle. 

You give him no choice with the way you’re touching him, the way you’re looking at him when you pull back, all pleading eyes and parted mouth, but to resign all protest. He’ll give you the world, and if right now you want to use his body to blow off some steam, who is he to complain about it?

“Yeah baby, of course,” he breathes. “What do you need?”

You smirk at him audaciously, tongue smoothing over your teeth. “Need you to be loud,” you purr. Your voice is so innocent in juxtaposition to the words you spew. It sends a chill down the column of his spine. “Let them know who makes you feel good.” 

He nearly cums in his pants untouched, grasps at the fabric of your shirt with clumsy hands and nods. “Fuck, okay.”

His belt falls to the floor with a clang.

He lets you take control, then. Lets you mark him with your tongue and your teeth, lets you back him to the door with deft fingers working his shirt buttons open before sinking to your knees in front of him, freeing his hardening cock from the confines of his jeans and boxers.

It’s already weeping for you when you pull it out, precum beading at the tip. He’s so big, growing heavier in your hand with each passing second, and you lose yourself for a moment, hypnotized by him.

“Always so eager to please me, aren’t you, pretty girl?” Joel’s voice pulls you back to earth, soft and adoring.

“Louder,” you remind him. Plant a kiss right over top of his leaking slit.

“Fuck,” he hisses through his teeth. One of his hands flies to the crown of your head, anchoring himself with fingers in your hair. “Dirty fucking girl.” 

His voice fills the entranceway, confident and filthy. 

“Mmm,” you hum approvingly.

“Yeah? You want me to tell ‘em? Tell ‘em you’re making my cock drool for you? That nobody — shit-” You enclose your lips around his tip, suckling on it as your fingers wrap around the base of his length and you begin to stroke him lazily. “-that nobody has ever made me feel this good?” 

Footsteps echo down the hallway and the sound makes you reflexively pause, your hand stiling on Joel’s cock. It’s followed by the jingling of metal, the click of a key in a lock, the opening and closing of a door — all close enough that you can pinpoint the source, can tell where exactly it’s coming from. 

Sheila is home. 

Perfect.

It’s probably worrying how excited it makes you, the prospect of her hearing, of her sitting alone in her apartment, at her empty dining table, and listening to Joel fall apart at your hands. Maybe they’ve driven you to and over the edge of sanity with their words, her most of all. Regardless, you can’t help the way it makes your cunt flutter around nothing. 

You lick a slow stripe up the underside of Joel’s cock, starting just above his balls and dragging the flat of your tongue up, up, up to his tip. His breath shudders, his grip on your hair tightening, and the subtle sting at the center of your scalp gives you another idea. 

“Do you wanna fuck my face, Joel?” 

“Do I wanna — fuck — you’re gonna kill me, angel.” 

“Go ahead,” you encourage, unhinging your jaw as wide as it can go, letting your tongue droop over your bottom lip. 

Saliva pools in your waiting mouth and Joel groans at the sight of you, so malleable for him, begging to be used. 

“You sure?” 

It’s not that he doesn’t think you can handle it. He knows you can. You’ve taken him down your throat more times than he can count. Always so fucking eager to please him, you are — just one of the many reasons he feels so goddamn lucky, so infuriated that anyone would think otherwise. 

But still, he can’t help but worry that he’ll hurt you. 

You nod, eyes locked on him, confirming beyond a shadow of a doubt that you want this. He nods back, beginning to feed his cock into your mouth, easing it in slowly and halting when his head hits the back of your throat, causing you to gag.

You don’t pull away, don’t show any indication of displeasure. In fact, you dig your fingers into the meat of his thighs, bearing down on him as you push forward. Mascara tears stain your cheeks as you choke on him, laser-focused on relaxing your throat so that you can accommodate more of his length. 

Joel pulls back, retreating entirely before pushing in again. He slowly increases his pace, your eyes hooded, so doelike and innocent, as his cockhead bruises your larynx. 

The sounds he’s pulling from your mouth are absurdly lewd: muffled gags and frantic inhales of breath. And then there’s him, moaning wildly, not sure if he’d be able to shut up even if he needed to be quiet. Your mouth is good, too fucking good and he’s going to — fuck, he’s going to cum if you don’t stop. 

He pulls out abruptly, a string of drool and precum tethering the tip of his cock to your swollen bottom lip. You’re panting, coughing, still bracing yourself against his legs when you fucking smile up at him. 

“Christ,” he says. “Fuckin’ angel, you are. Mouth feels like goddamn heaven.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. But I need to cum in that perfect little cunt,” he breathes, pulling a strangled moan from the back of your rawed throat. 

He helps you up, spins you around to face the door. You brace both hands on the wood, humming as he pulls your pants down to your knees. His breath is on the back of your neck, trailing up to the shell of your ear with one whisper just for you, because he can’t help it. 

“So fuckin’ beautiful, you know that?” 

You shiver, responding with a tilt of your head, inviting him in with a needy little mewl. He cradles your face in one of his large hands, the other rubbing over the curve of your ass as he kisses you passionately, tasting himself on your tongue.

The hand on your ass trails lower as he deepens the kiss, two fingers pressing against your clothed seam. You’ve all but soaked through the fabric, wet cotton molding to his knuckles as he caresses them along your pussy before pulling your panties down in one swift motion.

You whine into the kiss, desperate and dripping for him. “Please,” you breathe against his lips. “I’ll make you feel so good, I promise.”

“Know you will,” he coos, mouth parting from yours as he straightens out and lines himself up with your entrance. You arch your back, rocking onto the balls of your feet as he teases you with the tip.

His cock is so thick when it finally notches into you. It’s always so devastatingly thick, no matter how wet you are for him. The stretch stings, a jolt of warm pain coursing through your walls as he stills halfway in. 

“You okay?” he asks, one hand resting at the small of your back, the other on your hip, fingers gripping to you only tight enough to hold you in place.

“Yes, fuck — yes,” you whine. “Need you to fuck me, Joel.”

“I’m goin’ to baby, don’t worry,” 'he promises, pushing in another splitting inch. “Pussy’s so goddamn tight, ‘ts suckin’ me right in.”

It feels like hours pass with Joel’s cock motionless inside your aching cunt, his warm breath fanning across your back as he focuses on not cumming. You’re whimpering, begging under the weight of his body, to please just fucking move.

When he finally obliges you, pulling all the way out and then bottoming out in one deep thrust, it nearly punches the air out of your chest. You scrabble for purchase on the door, fingernails scraping against chipped paint. “F-uucckk,” you moan, eyes rolling back in your head as he sets a dizzying pace.

The sound of his balls slapping against the back of your thighs is enough to attract attention on its own, the loud smacksmacksmack going straight to your cunt. Joel growls behind you, driving into you even harder, the tip of his cock brushing against your g-spot. 

“Oh, shit,” you cry. Your pussy inadvertently squeezes him and he curses at your back, low and deep. 

“Not going to last if you keep doin’ that,” he warns. “Cunt is too fuckin’ good. Best I’ve ever — uuuhh — had.”

He’s not just saying it for show. It’s true. You know it is, too. He’s told you before, both under the influence of your pussy and not. Waited too many goddamn years to feel like this, he’d said once.

“It’s — fuck, it’s fine Joel,” you mutter. “I’m close too, just keep going, right there.”

A door across the hall creaks open. A pair of footsteps patter across tile. 

Do you hear that?  Yeah; what is that noise?

Joel laughs darkly behind you, snaps his hips up, forcing a guttural moan out of you. 

“Think they caught us, darlin’,” he says. “Caught you takin’ my cock like you’re fuckin’ made to.”

Oh my word!

Joel is unrelenting, pounding into you despite the voices right outside your apartment, and you fear for a moment that you’ve created a monster. One of his hands leaves its place on your waist, cracks down on the center of your asscheek with a slap, the flesh recoiling under his palm and you gasp. 

The feeling travels between your legs, straight to your neglected clit. It pulsates under the hood with every pass of Joel’s cock over your g-spot, and you feel yourself hurtling toward the edge dangerously fast. 

If these people don’t leave, they’re going to hear you cum. Do you want them to hear you cum? Yeah, you think, clit jumping again at the thought, I think I fucking do.

“Joel, fuck-”

“You gonna cum?” he goads. “Yeah, can feel you squeezin’ me — you’re gonna cum, aren’t ya?”

This is vulgar!  We should file a noise complaint. C’mon.

His hand snakes around your front then, finds your throbbing bud, and with a few passes of his calloused fingertips, you’re gone, vision whiting out and all noise around you muted. 

Joel keeps you upright between him and the door, his grip on you tightening as your muscles slacken. He follows closely behind, cumming inside you with a carnal noise from the back of his throat, rope after rope of his spend filling your cunt. 

He pulls out with a grunt, immediately collapsing on the floor. Without his support, you topple over too, falling onto his lap with a satiated giggle. 

A banging comes from the other side of the wall then, shaking your kitchen cabinets a few feet away, the clanging of glassware jolting you.

Keep it down next time! I don’t need to hear that!

And then you’re laughing like teenagers, Joel pulling you in for a sloppy kiss, all tongues and teeth. 

“Think they’re really gonna make a noise complaint?” Joel asks when you finally come up for air. 

“I dunno,” you smile. “Does your offer still stand — for me to move in with you?” 

“Always,” he vows, forehead resting against yours.

end notes: ty for reading! pls consider commenting or reblogging if you enjoyed <3

[moonchild9350]

Perfect Copy

summary: Hyunjin brings home a clone of himself, one to take over his daily life at work and home when he's gone for the tour. Everything seems to be great....that is until it's not.

pairing: idol!Hyunjin x fab!reader x clone!Hyunjin

genre: established relationship, sci fi au, angst, fluff, smut-18+ MDNI

word count: 9k

warnings: fingering, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex (don't), creampie, squirting, multiple rounds and other things I don’t want to spoil!

notes: this fic is one of my favorites that i wrote! I'm thinking of making it an anthology series with three chapters per se. Let me know if you'd like to see it as so! And as always let me know what you think of this fic!

If you enjoyed, please comment, like, and reblog ♡

Divider by @saradika-graphics

Please do not copy, translate, edit, report, or use this work without my permission. ©moonchild9350 (2024)

Masterlist

You were pacing the floor of your room, your hands behind your back as your mind raced. The phrase “what should I do,” repeated over and over, so much so it was all you could hear.

The house was empty, the silence loud and clear as your feet touched the padded floor. The sun was shining through your window, the sound of a dog barking in the distance and children playing at the park across the street. The atmosphere outside was completely different from the one inside.

Not too long ago, you got off the phone with Hyunjin, your boyfriend, after he shared some disturbing information that would change the dynamic of the household forever…or at least the foreseeable future. He was bringing his clone home to join the household at the company’s request.

You were too stunned to speak as he explained each band member was required to have one, the company going as far as to add an addendum into their contracts stating so.

When you asked why, Hyunjin just explained that the clone would be here when he’s gone on tour, ready to continue operations at the company as scheduled, saving time and money for the company.

What could you do?

The decision was already made and Hyunjin and his clone were on their way here, to the home you both shared.

It’s not like you’ve never heard of an idol having a clone to help out with their career, matter of fact it was more common than people thought. The appeal was there, as a clone would be able to attend events and carry on with the idol’s daily life as if it were nothing, allowing the idol to simultaneously complete other tasks that were needed of them.

The world had mixed reactions about the idea, some in favor of the thought, allowing idols to not be overworked, while others found the idea not so appealing. You yourself was somewhere in the middle, understanding why an idol would want the extra help as you were dating one yourself but also found the idea of a clone of Hyunjin walking around eerie.

You continued to pace the floor, back and forth, back and forth, until you heard the door open and close. You could hear Hyunjin speaking with someone, his voice carrying through the small apartment.

Taking a breath, you braced yourself and walked into the hallway, coming face to face with Hyunjin and well…Hyunjin.

“Hey babe!” Hyunjin said, coming up to you and pressing a kiss to your cheek.

You shuffled behind Hyunjin a little as he turned to face his clone. “Well here he is! Or I guess here I am?” He said with a chuckle.

The clone raised his hand as if to say hi before placing it at his side again, his eyes fixed right on you. You lowered your gaze not sure where to look as he continued to stare at you.

“Well let’s all go sit down and chat,” Hyunjin said, breaking the awkward silence that briefly filled the room.

You followed him to the couch, sitting down next to him as his clone took the seat opposite both of you. The clone sat up straight in his seat, his hands placed delicately in his lap as he waited for Hyunjin to speak.

You took a moment to take the new member of the household in, observing his looks to see if he resembles Hyunjin at all and you must admit, he could pass off as your boyfriend. His hair was long and brown, sitting perfectly at his shoulders, his eyes a beautiful chocolate brown. He even had the little freckle underneath his left eye, the pretty beauty mark very much present and distinctive.

The only difference was his unblemished skin, new and perfect just like a brand new baby. His movements were stiff and uncertain, as if they hadn’t been used in a while, which they probably hadn’t.

Hyunjin’s clone looked around, his eyes drifting across the living room, taking in his new surroundings. You were so caught up in observing the clone that you were startled as Hyunjin clapped his hands next to you.

“Well welcome me! Thats weird to say,” Hyunjin chuckled as he slapped his thigh.

You and the clone just stared at him, unsure of what to say or do.

Hyunjin coughed before settling back in his seat, feeling the awkward tension in the room.

“Okay…tough crowd. My clone will be living here from now on. He’ll be in and out of the house to go to the company and fill in for me while I’m gone, and he’ll be here for you if you need anything.”

Hyunjin’s clone then smiled, his dimples showing just like on your Hyunjin. His smile, his mannerisms was so much like your boyfriend’s it was unnerving. It was becoming too much for you.

“I’m sorry, I need a moment,” you mumbled as you got up, retreating to the safety of your bedroom.

You went and sat on the bed, your head down in your hands as Hyunjin walked in.

“Baby?” Hyunjin asked as he came to kneel in front of you. He gently began rubbing your legs attempting to soothe you.

You looked up and say the concern in your boyfriend’s face. Softening your features you said, “I’m just….overwhelmed. He’s just like you, it’s eerie.”

Hyunjin nodded agreeing with you. It was eerie, he’s not going to lie. It was a weird feeling seeing himself standing there. He needed you to be okay though and comfortable with the clone while he’s away.

“It’s okay, I just have to get used to him being here is all,” you continued attempting to smile.

“Okay baby, you’ll tell me if you change your mind?” Hyunjin asked as he held your gaze.

You shook your head yes and placed your hands on top of his. Hyunjin smiled and got up, leaning over to press a kiss to your lips. You sighed as his plush lips melted with yours, as he brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear.

All too soon, Hyunjin pulled back and grinned. “Let’s go back yeah?”

You nodded and stood up, reaching out to take Hyunjin’s hand in yours. He interlaced his fingers with yours, the softness and warm feeling causing you to feel at ease and led the way back to the living room. The clone was sitting in the same spot still, his head turning toward you both as you entered the room. His eyes drifted to your intertwined hands for a moment before looking back up, his cheeks reddening.

Hyunjin dropped your hand and sat down, turning the tv on in the process. You didn’t know what to do as you rocked back and forth on your feet, your eyes darting anywhere but on Hyunjin’s clone.

“I’ll just…go to the kitchen,” you mumbled as you turned on your heels, making your way to the kitchen.

Once in the kitchen, you looked around wondering what to do next. You took a look at the clock and noticed it was almost dinner time. 'Might as well cook dinner,’ you thought as you grabbed the ingredients you needed to make lasagna.

You could hear the voices from the tv and Hyunjin and his clone discussing something, but the sound of pots and pans clanging together overpowered them both. It was easy to fall into the safe and familiar routine of making the sauce, placing the noodles down followed by more sauce and cheese.

Carefully, you created a dish worth devouring, smiling as you added the finishing touches before sliding it into the oven. You then went about chopping up lettuce and other veggies, deciding to make a salad for the side.

You were tossing the vegetables together when a pair of arms wrapped around your waist. With a yelp, you dropped the tongs you were holding before spinning around to see who it was.

“Easy baby!” Hyunjin said as he held you close, a mixture of concern and pure amusement on his face.

“You scared me!” You exclaimed as you clutched your chest with one hand and lightly slapped his arm with the other.

“I’m sorry,” he pouted, giving you the sweetest puppy dog eyes. “Kiss?”

You sighed and smiled while pressing your lips to his. Hyunjin pulled you closer, his hands drifting down your sides to rest on your ass. He deepened the kiss, shoving his tongue in your mouth to tangle with yours. You let out a moan deep within your throat as he rutted his semi-hardened bulge into your core, his length pressed against you nicely, as a little reminder of what you do to him.

Hyunjin then nipped at your lips and leaned back and gazed at you, taking in your flushed cheeks and swollen lips.

“We’ll finish this later mm?” Hyunjin said before turning around and walking away.

You stood there stunned, your mind trying to catch up to what you were doing before. The smell of something burning caught your attention and you quickly grabbed an oven mitt to pull the lasagna out to cool. You hurried to set the table, placing the food in the center and called the boys to come eat.

Dinner was a strange affair as you were sitting across from the clone. You stole hurried glances at him while he scarfed down his food, not caring if it was hot enough to burn his tongue. Once he cleaned his plate, he sat back and smiled, seeming completely satiated.

“That was amazing y/n,” the clone said, pushing his plate away.

“Uhh, thanks,” you murmured as you pushed your food around, as you were starting to feel full.

“She’s a great cook huh?” Hyunjin bragged with a cocky grin. “That’s my girl.”

You chuckled and playfully hit Hyunjin on the shoulder, rolling your eyes as he dramatically clutched his arm. As you were teasing him for his theatrics, you missed how the clone eyed you, watching your every move and how you interacted with the real Hyunjin.

“Oh!” Hyunjin exclaimed, recovering from the show he was putting on, “What do we call you while I’m here? Might be a little confusing if we just say Hyunjin.”

All three of you were silent for a moment as you racked your brains for a nickname to call the clone to avoid confusion within the house. After a moment more, an idea popped into your head.

“What about Jinnie?” You suggested, looking from the clone to Hyunjin.

The clone looked at you for a moment as if he was pondering your choice, his facial expression unreadable. Hyunjin was silent as he waited for the clone’s response.

“I love it!” The clone responded, a wide grin spreading on his perfect face.

“Perfect! We’ll call you Jinnie then,” Hyunjin said while grasping your hand in his to give it a squeeze.

The rest of the evening passed without event, all three of you spending it in front of the tv, watching a movie that Hyunjin had heard was really good from Felix. As the movie went on, you began to feel tired, your eyes drooping and body feeling heavy as you leaned onto Hyunjin. You closed your eyes briefly, telling yourself you’d just take a little cat nap while the ending played on the screen.

However, you were jolted awake by Hyunjin, who was gently shaking your shoulder and calling your name. You quickly sat up, shocked you had actually fallen asleep.

“Let’s go sleepy head,” Hyunjin teased as he pulled you up from the couch. “I already showed Jinnie his room.”

You nodded and followed your boyfriend, slipping into your shared bedroom to get ready for bed. As you got ready for bed, going through the motions of getting into your sleep shirt, brushing your teeth and doing your skin care, Hyunjin prepped the bed pushing your stuffies aside and making sure all of your blankets were at the ready.

Hyunjin slid into bed, patting the space next to him. You giggled and padded over, snuggling under the blankets with your boyfriend. He pulled you close and pressed sloppy kisses to your face, causing you to giggle.

The kisses increased until his lips slotted with yours, soft and sweet, until he pressed his hard on into your thigh and bit your lip between his teeth.

“Need you love,” he whispered in between kisses.

His hands slide down your side, tracing the curves of your hips until he cupped your sex. You let out a soft moan as he slid a finger through your panties, pushing it between your folds soaking the fabric.

“Let me hear you love,” he cooed as he stared at your face, taking in how he was making you feel.

Hyunjin slid your panties to the side and pressed his finger directly against your clit before swirling fast but precise circles against the puffy bud. You whimpered against his lips as shocks of pleasure traveled through your core, your hips moving in time with his movements.

“That’s it love, eyes on me,” he said as his fingers sneaked down to your hole and sliding in within your warmth.

He curled his fingers up and rubbed the little gummy spot that makes your toes curl, your fingers digging into his biceps as he fucked you. You kept your eyes on his, feeling your high build up within you with each passing second.

Hyunjin could tell you were going to come, as he fucked you with his fingers, the palm of his hand giving your clit extra stimulation. His cock twitched within his sweats as you panted and moaned, whimpering his name over and over.

“Hyunjin, fuck! Gonna come!” You squealed as you felt the muscles tighten in your core before letting go, the walls contracting around his fingers as you let out a moan.

“Yes, that’s it love. Such a good girl coming on my fingers,” Hyunjin praised, smirking at the squeal you let out.

He withdrew his fingers and hurriedly pushed his sweats down, his cock finally free and dripping with precum. Hyunjin bunched your shirt up, exposing your lower half to him and spread your legs wider so he could fit more easily between them.

You watched him with a hooded gaze as he lazily stroked his cock, spreading the precum around his length.

“Ready for my cock love?” Hyunjin asked as he teased your clit with his tip, waiting for your response.

“Give me your cock baby,” you begged.

“Fuck!” Hyunjin groaned as he pushed in, his cock sliding in with ease with how wet you were.

He immediately set a fast pace, focused on getting you both to your highs. He was a sight to see above you, his eyes set in a fucked out expression as he bit his plush lips over and over. Beads of sweat pooled on his temple, the droplets making their way onto your belly as they fell away.

You let out a loud moan, so loud that you’re sure Jinnie heard in the guest room. You couldn’t bring yourself to care however, as you focused on how your lovers cock felt deep within you, fucking you just how you like it, until your orgasm built once more, threatening to spill over at any moment. -- -- Jinnie was on his way back to his room after washing up when he heard your moans, high pitched and shrill and mixed with deeper, lower ones. He stopped in front of the door to your bedroom which was slightly cracked allowing him to hear and see the activities that were occurring more easily.

He should walk away and ignore you both, but how could he when you sounded so sweet. Jinnie felt his cock swell in his pants, the tent becoming very noticeable. Ignoring the discomfort he felt down below, he focused his eye on the crack of the door and watched. Watched as his double fucked you within an inch of your life. Listened as you moaned and screamed Hyunjin’s name…his name.

He could see your face, how your eyes rolled to the back of your head, your tongue lolling out as you withered around in pleasure. He could see your toes curl as your legs wrapped around Hyunjin’s waist pulling him closer and deeper. He could hear your wet pussy, the squelches it made as Hyunjin’s cock speared you open.

Jinnie was in awe of you. He found himself wanting to be the one fucking you, causing you to orgasm over and over underneath him. He wanted to be the one to hold you tight at night as you slumbered. He wanted to be the one that loves you.

As you came with a loud yell, he decided he would have you, so you could call him yours and vice versa.

As the weeks passed, all three of you settled into your new routines. Hyunjin and Jinnie would go off to the studio, their schedules busy with rehearsals and recordings for the new album and tour. You stayed home most days, working on your sketches for the fashion show that was coming up as you were a fashion designer. Occasionally you would go into the office for meetings.

The boys usually got home exhausted but energetic, yapping about their day nonstop. You watched in amazement as both of them animatedly reenacted some scene Minho and Jisung had recreated. You couldn’t help but think that they were so similar, the way their brains processed what to say or do next, to the way they moved, almost as if they were in sync.

“And scene!” Hyunjin shouted as he took a bow while Jinnie clapped in delight.

“I have no clue what just happened,” you teased, shaking your head in disbelief.

“What?!” Hyunjin whined, a pout forming on his face.

“We were reenacting the scene from that new action movie that just came out. Minho and Jisung were adamant that we learn the moves and lines,” Jinnie explained with an apologetic look on his face.

“Ah makes sense,” you chuckled.

Hyunjin collapsed on the floor and grabbed his water bottle to take a swig. You sat next to Jinnie, feeling slightly more comfortable with him, but still a little on edge. Hyunjin would be leaving soon to embark on the group’s five month long tour, leaving you here with Jinnie. Anytime he mentioned how close the date was, you would freak out, voicing your concerns at being alone with practically a stranger.

However, Hyunjin would dismiss your concerns saying Jinnie isn’t a stranger, it’s basically him. He’d always reassure you that if he didn’t need the clone, he would not have it. Simple as that. But the company wanted the members to use the clones so they can progress in their careers, so there was nothing he could really do.

You understood, knowing his hands were tied, so you put up with Jinnie and tried to get not let his similarities to Hyunjin get to you.

“Should we have one last game night before I have to leave?” Hyunjin suggested. “We can order take out and everything.”

You and Jinnie both agreed and began picking out a game while Hyunjin ordered the food. It wasn’t long before you three were settled on the floor, board game set up with food all around you. The night passed with friendly banter, making you feel even more at ease with the clone.

“Don’t forget my favorite sweatshirts!” Hyunjin called out to you from the bathroom as you rummaged through the drawers.

You were helping Hyunjin pack as he was leaving for the tour the next day. You spotted the sweatshirts he mentioned and groaned, realizing that his favorite sweatshirts were also your favorites and that you wouldn’t have anything to wear for comfort while he was gone.

“Can you leave one here with me please? I need to have something of yours while you’re gone.”

Hyunjin poked his head from the bathroom. “I suppose. Pick whichever one you want.”

You smiled and began to shift through the fabric, deciding on his black hoodie. You gathered the others and carefully folded them before placing them in his suitcase. You gathered his shirts, pants, socks, and boxers, ensuring he had everything he would need while gone. Satisfied with your work you announced to your boyfriend that you were done packing.

Hyunjin came out of the bathroom, carrying his toiletries with a smile. “Thanks love.”

“Of course, anything for my lover,” you cooed. “You have everything you need.”

“Everything?” Hyunjin asked as he set down his bag in the suitcase.

You cocked your head at him, wandering what he was talking about. You slowly backed away as he stalked toward you, a smirk on his face. As your back hit the wall, Hyunjin approached you.

“I won’t have you,” he murmured as he cupped your chin.

You held your breath as he gently pressed his lips to yours, savoring the slow moment. You were going to miss this, miss him. As you clutched onto his shirt, Hyunjin deepened the kiss as he pressed his body closer to yours until there was barely any space left between you two.

You let out a whimper as he disconnected from you, his eyes on your swollen, red lips.

“Can I have my girl tonight?” He softly said, his arms wrapping around your waist to hold you close.

You nodded your head as you gazed into his eyes, your pussy clenching over nothing at the implications of his words. Hyunjin smiled and then guided you to the bed. He helped you get comfortable before peeling off your clothes, layer by layer until you lay bare for him.

Parting your legs, Hyunjin settled between them, his eyes on your wet pussy. “Let me take care of you baby,” Hyunjin cooed as he leaned down to get comfortable.

He licked up your folds collecting your slick that was there coating your skin. You let out a low moan as he repeated the action again and again until he dived in, his lips wrapping around your clit in earnest. He began to suck gently, rolling your bundle of nerves on his tongue every now and then, causing you to mewl out.

You gripped his hair, holding him to your pussy as he ate you out, his tongue lapping at clit before pushing into your hole to lick at your walls. You couldn’t help but buck your hips into his mouth as he moaned, the vibrations traveling into your core. You watched your lover as he licked and sucked before leaning back, resting his head on your thigh as he placed lazy kisses on the flesh.

Minutes turned to hours as he edged you, playing with your pussy just the way he likes until you were whimpering and begging for him to let you cum. As he looked up at you during a break, he gently stroked your outer thigh, gazing at you with love in his eyes.

“My sweet girl ready to cum?” He asked, his eyebrows raising as he waited for your answer.

“Yes, yes, please let me cum,” you whined.

Hyunjin smirked before turning back to your pussy, eyeing the flesh. You were soaked, your slick coating every inch of your pussy, your thighs, and the sheets below. He parted your folds carefully, exposing your engorged clit. God he loved when he had you like this, needy and begging, your pussy waiting to be devoured so you could come on his face.

He wasted no time wrapping his mouth around your clit, this time sucking hard and fast. You were a mess as pleasure spread throughout your core. Hyunjin searched for your hands and once he found them he interlaced his fingers with yours as he continued to suckle your clit.

You squeezed his hands as you rocked your hips, riding his face as your high built up within. You whispered a litany of Hyunjin’s name, pleading for him not to stop with Hyunjin humming at your demands, as he pressed his face further into your folds.

With a particular suck and roll of your clit against his tongue, your orgasm hit hard and you let out a loud moan as Hyunjin continued to suck to help you ride out your high. Once satisfied, he leaned back and licked his lips, his eyes rolling to the back of his head at your taste. He took you in as you breathed heavy and laid in the mess you made, completely fucked out.

You were in and out of sleep as Hyunjin carefully cleaned you up before he cuddled next to you holding you tight in his arms. You felt at ease as you snuggled in closer to him, listening to the sound of his heart beat. And as you drifted off to sleep, you dreamed that he didn’t have to go on his tour, that he would stay here with you. But of course, that was only a dream which this time would not come true.

“Have a safe flight baby,” you said with tears in your eyes as you straightened out Hyunjin’s scarf.

The day of the members departure was here. Most of the boys were already outside gathering their luggage, but Hyunjin stayed behind in the van to say goodbye to you.

“Aww don’t cry love. I’ll be back before you know it! And we’ll talk on the phone every night.” Hyunjin said as he wiped your tears away.

“You better,” you mumbled with a pout on your face causing Hyunjin to chuckle.

“Now give me a kiss!” Hyunjin demanded.

He pulled you close and slotted his lips with yours, pressing sweet kisses again and again. You clutched onto his sweatshirt, holding tight as he deepened the kiss, a small moan leaving his lips as his tongue tangled with yours. You both were lost in each other, neither wanting to let go, but time had other plans. There was a sharp rap on the window which startled you both causing you to jump away from each other.

“Well I guess I should go,” Hyunjin murmured as he ran his hand through his hair.

“Yeah,” you said, your voice laced with sadness.

Hyunjin gathered his bags and opened the door to climb out to a sea of fans and flashing lights. He spared you one more glance, giving you a small smile before stepping next to the others. You watched him as the van drove away, away from your lover.

You weren’t sure what to expect over the next five months, but you hoped it would go by quickly.

When you arrived home, you walked into an empty house as Jinnie was back at the building recording songs for the next album. You took the opportunity to get some work done yourself. You grabbed your sketchbook and some snacks and made yourself cozy on the couch. You began to sketch, finishing up some designs on some dresses.

Time passed as you worked, you getting lost in the vision that was being translated on paper that you didn’t hear the door open as Jinnie came home. He was so quiet that you were startled when he sat next to you to peer over your shoulder.

“Whatcha doing?” Jinnie asked, curiosity in his eyes.

“Oh my god!” You screeched as you clutched at your chest. “You scared me!”

Jinnie’s face changed from curiosity to something sadder, his eyes downcast as he fumbled with his fingers. He didn’t mean to scare you, he just wanted to see what you were working on, wanting to be there for you since Hyunjin was gone.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” Jinnie said, giving you puppy dog eyes as if he was begging for attention.

You regarded the man next to you. He was dressed in grey sweats and a white t-shirt with his hair in a half up, half down hairstyle…just how Hyunjin was dressed for his travels. Did Jinnie dress like Hyunjin on purpose? You’re not sure but it was weird.

“It’s okay,” you said as you closed your sketchbook. You were definitely not getting anymore work done tonight.

You both sat in silence, unsure of what to say or do…that is until your stomach growled. Jinnie perked up, a grin on his face.

“Wanna order take out?” He inquired, cocking his head to the side.

“Um, sure,” you murmured. “While you order I’m going to go take a shower.”

Jinnie nodded and pulled out his phone, pulling up the delivery app to browse options.

You began to walk to your bedroom before remembering that he doesn’t know what to order you. Turning around you said, “Oh you can order me…”

But you were cut off, Jinnie picking up his head to look at you. “I know what you like.”

You stared at him, unsure of what to say. He knew what you liked? How was that possible? Hyunjin always did the ordering. Did Hyunjin discuss with Jinnie your likes and dislikes? You looked up to see Jinnie staring at you, with a look on his face you couldn’t quite place. It was slightly unsettling as he didn’t blink, but sat frozen with his eyes trained on you.

“Oh…okay then,” you said before booking it to your bedroom.

Once on the other side of the door, you let out a breath of relief. That was a little weird you must admit and the way he stared at you, like he knew something you didn’t. As your heart rate settled, you padded across the room, gathering the things you needed for your shower.

You turned the water on and stripped your clothes off before getting under the warm stream of water. You emptied your mind, the thoughts of what just occurred leaving your mind and draining with the water that ran down your body. Once your mind was clear, you were able to fully enjoy your shower, the scent of your honey and green tea body wash relaxing you.

You stayed under the stream until the water ran cold. You quickly got out wanting to put on something warm, plus your stomach was rumbling so loud you’re sure the neighbors could hear it. You put on your favorite pjs and passed Hyunjin’s sweatshirt over your head, taking in his scent.

Satisfied and refreshed, you returned to the living room to the smell of comfort food. You walked a little faster, ready to dig into whatever Jinnie ordered. As you entered, Jinnie looked up with a smile and gestured for you to sit next to him.

“Here you go, all plated up and ready for you to eat!” He exclaimed as he set down a plate of food.

You were taken aback, not used to having your plate made, but accepted it nonetheless. As you scooped the first bite of Mac and cheese into your mouth, you let out a moan, savoring the cheese on your tastebuds. This was just what you needed after a day like today.

You both ate in silence, watching the show that Jinnie picked before you came in. He doted on you every second of dinner, making sure you had enough food and drink. If you needed something, he got it for you, not wanting you to get up. Things were okay until he reached out to wipe a string of cheese off your chin, his gaze on you.

It felt oddly intimate, the man who looked just like your boyfriend cleaning your face. You were conflicted, not sure if you should accept the help or push him away. However, before you could decide, he pulled back before sticking the finger he just cleaned your face with in his mouth. You stared in shock as he sucked on the digit, licking the food residue clean.

As he removed his finger with a pop, he chuckled and turned to look back at the tv like nothing happened. You were still frozen in place, your mind trying to catch up to what Jinnie just did. Maybe it was time to retire for the night, before anything else occured.

You thanked Jinnie for the food and excused yourself to lock yourself in your bedroom. Is this what things would be like with Hyunjin gone? You were a mix of emotions, the feeling of confusion, fear, and a little excitement stirring deep within. You began to get ready for bed, wanting to be within the safety and comfort of your blankets. — — Jinnie wanted to make sure everything was perfect for you. He knew you would be sad that Hyunjin was gone but he found that an obstacle he could easily remedy. After all he was here. He is Hyunjin, whether you realized it or not. He has Hyunjin’s looks, his mannerisms, characteristics, he is the perfect copy of the man you called your boyfriend.

He began to clean up the mess from dinner, a smile on his face at how it went. He could tell you were impressed as he made sure you had everything you needed. Even though it was only the first day, things were going smoothly, and if he had anything to say about it, he would continue to make sure it remained so.

As the weeks passed, you became used to Jinnie, how he took care of you, gave you company after he was done with work. You weren’t lonely, which you were thankful for. You finished your sketches for work and had delivered them to the team, the next phase of the project fully underway. You spoke with Hyunjin every night, discussing your day and listening to him talk about his performances.

You missed him dearly, expressing so on the phone every night. Your heart swelled as you listened to Hyunjin profess his love to you, promising to come back very soon. Listening to his voice calmed you, making you feel more at ease with the time remaining that he would be gone. Every time Hyunjin ended the call, he’d always remind you to let Jinnie care for you in any way you needed, making you promise that you’d do so.

After speaking with Hyunjin one night, you laid in bed wide awake, your mind on your boyfriend instead of sleep. You needed him, wanted to feel him, touch him as it’s been so long. With a sigh, you began to drift your hands over your body, lightly brushing them over your breasts, circling your nipples causing you to become wet.

You slowly drifted your hands down, slipping it within your panties to touch your aching core. You began to circle your clit, letting out a mewl at the pleasure that your fingers brought you. Your mind drifted to Hyunjin, thinking of how he would touch you, soft and gentle at first before speeding up, bringing you to your high and savoring the little sounds you made as you let go.

Your eyes were closed as you continued to pleasure yourself, your orgasm steadily building at the thought of your lover. Your moans increased in pitch with each passing minute to the point you didn’t hear the door crack open and Jinnie step in.

You rocked your hips against your fingers, moaned Hyunjin’s name like a prayer, your eyes opening briefly just to see Jinnie standing at the door staring at you, a bulge clearly visible in the sweatpants he was wearing. You let out a gasp and removed your fingers from your panties before sitting up.

“What are you doing here?!” You shrieked, pulling your blankets up your legs to cover yourself.

Jinnie continued to look at you with lust in his eyes. He heard you from his room, your sweet moans as you called out his name as you pleasured yourself. He tried to ignore it, but you just sounded too sweet.

“Let me make you feel good,” Jinnie said as he slowly walked toward you. “You need me baby, so let me. Will you?”

Shit, he must have heard you through the walls. You continued to eye him as he stalked towards you, a pleading look on his face. You were still wet, your panties sticking to your skin, a constant reminder to what you were doing before you were interrupted. You were sad at how you weren’t able to orgasm, the need still pooling in your core.

Your mind was so hazy, drunk with lust and filled with need that you wanted to believe Jinnie was Hyunjin. You remembered how you craved Hyunjin’s touch, wanting to fall apart at the mercy of his fingers. Looking at the man in front of you, you thought fuck it and leaned back on your pillow and removed your blankets from your lower half, exposing your soaked core to him.

Jinnie licked his lips, his eyes trained on your covered pussy, your folds clearly visible through your panties. He quickly scrambled onto the bed, laying on his stomach to come face to face with your core.

You watched as he looked you in the eyes before pressing a soft kiss to your covered clit over and over leaving you breathless at the teasing sensation. Jinnie was in no rush as he pressed kisses down your left thigh, then your right before once more pressing a kiss to your clit.

By this point, you were begging, pleading for him to touch you so you could cum, the pleasure so overwhelming from his actions that you felt sparks shoot down your thighs and little flutters in your belly.

Jinnie chuckled as he pushed your panties to the side, finally coming face to face with your sopping folds. You let out a loud moan as he licked up your slit before taking your clit in his mouth and began to suckle the bud. Your fingers tangled in his hair, guiding his head as plunged his tongue into your hole. With each groan he let out, your arousal gushed out, coating his face as he licked up every drop, not wanting to waste your sweet slick.

You were close, the feeling of the band coiling tighter and tighter within you. You gripped Jinnie’s hair tighter, spreading your legs wider so he could continue without hindrance.

“Lemme come, please, please,” you whimpered.

Jinnie let out a hum, acknowledging your pleas. He’d like nothing more for you to come on his tongue. With a few more suckles he heard you let out a moan as you let go, copious amounts of your release leaking out of your pussy to trickle down your ass and coat his chin. He licked you clean, sticking his tongue in your entrance one last time to massage your walls as you came down.

Once he felt your grip slack on his hair, he leaned back, and gazed down at you. You stared back at him, noticing his blown out pupils and raging boner. All you could do was regulate your breathing as you watched him strip, his shirt coming off with ease to reveal his toned abs, followed by his sweats, his cock springing out and slapping his belly.

You took him in, your eyes glued to his cock that was perfectly identical to Hyunjin’s, down to the little mole on the shaft that you loved so much. Jinnie scooted closer to you and lifted your legs up and onto his shoulders before sheathing himself within you.

You moaned at the familiar stretch, your mind blown with how he can feel just like your boyfriend. You didn’t have time to think much as he began to thrust his hips, dragging his cock in and out of your pussy at a fast pace. It was uncanny at how he knew how to fuck you, how to angle his hips so he can reach that spot that makes your toes curl.

Jinnie smirked at you as if he could read your thoughts, gripping your legs tighter as he slammed his hips into yours. You were his, that he was certain, and he was going to keep it that way.

You clenched around his cock as you felt your orgasm build once more, shock on your face mixed with pleasure at the fact that you were going to come again so soon.

“That’s right baby, come on my cock. Come on Jinnie’s cock,” he cooed, bringing one hand down to thumb at your clit.

You felt the pressure build in your lower belly, stronger than it usually was. The pressure was so much that you thought you were going to pee. Before you could mumble for Jinnie to stop, you let go, your orgasm hitting you hard. You tossed your head back as your vision went white, little stars forming in front of you as you heard a ringing in your ears. You felt your release leak out, so much so that you began to panic.

“No no baby, just lay back, you squirted baby and that’s just so fucking hot,” Jinnie moaned as he punctuated each syllable with a thrust of his hips.

His eyes drifted to your pussy, how wet you were, your pussy talking with each drag of his cock within you. You were perfect, your pussy was perfect, and he was going to claim you, mark you as his. With a few more thrusts, he stilled, his pelvis flush to your ass as he came, his cum flooding your insides and mixing with your slick that was now starting to pool on the sheets.

As he came down from his high, he withdrew his cock, watching as his cum seeped from your pussy. He looked up into your eyes, his heart fluttering as you gazed up at him with a look he couldn’t decipher. He started to get up, thinking he’s overstayed his welcome when you reached out and mumbled “stay.”

You were more than satisfied, your lower half full of his cum, your clit and pussy tingling from the abuse it received. Maybe it’s because you were missing Hyunjin, but as Jinnie got up to leave, you reached out to him and said the one word you never thought you’d say. You watched as Jinnie looked in shock, but then love as he scooted next to you, cuddling you close to his body.

As time passed your eyes became heavy, sleep catching up to your exhausted body. And with the sound of Jinnie’s beating heart and warmth he provided, you feel into a deep sleep.

— —

Ever since you let Jinnie in your bed, it’s become a ritual, where he joins you once you’ve showered. He makes sweet love to you, providing you with orgasm after orgasm until you fall asleep, satisfied and exhausted.

You didn’t mind, matter of fact you were ecstatic, your needs being taken care of while Hyunjin was gone. You mentioned to him one night about the arrangement worried he would object. However, he wholeheartedly thought it was okay, happy that you were being cared for in more ways than one.

Jinnie was your savor in Hyunjin’s absence. He took such good care for you, no matter how tired he was from rehearsal. He made your meals, pampered you, fucked you, made sure you didn’t want for nothing. At first you didn’t mind, as it was nice to be doted on, especially in your lovers absence. However, over time you started to notice slight differences in Jinnie’s behavior.

He became more clingy, wanting to be with you whenever he wasn’t at work. However, that even changed when one day he suggested you bring your work with you so you could join him at the studio. When you declined, he felt dejected, his head hung low with hurt in his eyes. You didn’t care however, as you wanted to carry on with life as usual, not breaking up your routine, especially when it came to work.

Things seemed to be okay as Jinnie backed down a little, staying in his lane and just going with the flow. He hadn’t joined you in bed for a few weeks now, wanting to give you your space. You were grateful for it, needing the room to breathe and take time to think.

However, you began to miss Hyunjin even more as month four hit, his absence starting to take a toll on you.

Jinnie started to notice a change in your behavior, noticing that you seemed more sad than usual. Thinking you needed to be pampered he planned a movie night filled with your favorite snacks.

You joined begrudgingly, not really wanting to be next to him, but also not wanting to hurt his feelings. You chose your snacks and grabbed a blanket to cuddle up for the movie.

Halfway through, Jinnie turned to you and placed a hand on your knee. “Y/n, what’s wrong?”

You looked at Jinnie and said, “I’m just missing Hyunjin,” which was the truth. Your mind was actually on your boyfriend and what you two would be doing right now if he was home.

“Oh y/n, don’t you get it? I am Hyunjin,” Jinnie said.

You were taken aback at his response. The way he was looking at you as if he needed you to understand what he said, to how his hand was still on your knee made you feel uncomfortable.

“You’re not Hyunjin,” you countered, narrowing your eyes at the clone.

“Why of course I am,” Jinnie said with a confused face.

You slowly began to unravel yourself from the blankets and stand up to back away slowly. Something isn’t right. The clone truly believes he is Hyunjin. You didn’t know what to say so you continued to back up until you reached your room. You fumbled for the doorknob and finally finding it, you gave it a twist and quickly stepped inside. After closing the door, you locked it, the click it made making you feel a little more safe.

You walked to your bedside and found your phone, dialing Hyunjin’s number immediately.

“Hey baby!” Hyunjin answered enthusiastically.

You felt the opposite of happy however. “Hyunjin, I’m scared,” you voiced, a slight tremble evident in your voice.

“Why? What’s wrong?” Hyunjin asked, his enthusiasm now turned to concern.

“Jinnie just said that he is you. I really think your clone thinks he’s the original you.”

Hyunjin was quiet, the line silent as the seconds passed on. Finally, Hyunjin responded, “Baby, what are you talking about?”

“You heard me!” You shrieked, desperation in your voice. “Isn’t there something you can do?!”

“Okay, okay, calm down love. I’ll talk with the manager and see what we can do okay?”

It wasn’t what you wanted to hear, but at least it was something. “Okay,” you softly said.

“Okay, good,” Hyunjin paused for a moment, listening to whoever was talking to him on the other side. “Listen love, I gotta go. I’ll talk to the manager and then let you know what they say. I love you.”

“I love you too,” you said and hung up.

Now what were you going to do? You couldn’t stay in here forever, although it was tempting. Maybe just for tonight? Yeah, that would work and then tomorrow you can face the nightmare that was right outside your door. — — “Good morning baby!” Jinnie said as he gestured for you to sit, as he had made a huge spread for breakfast.

You cautiously sat down and grabbed some toast, nibbling on the corners as you eyed the clone.

“I was thinking we could go to the park today. I have an empty schedule today.”

You really didn’t want to go anywhere with this clone, but for your safety, you may have to play along.

“Okay,” you agreed half heartedly.

Jinnie’s face lit up at your answer and continued to eat his breakfast. After you finished your toast you got up and walked to the couch, plopping down on the soft cushions. You waited for Jinnie to finish, not wanting to be in the same room with him if you didn’t have to.

However, all too soon, he finished his meal and came to stand beside you waiting for you to get up. Sighing you followed him out of the door, your mood the total opposite of his. You stayed silent as he chattered away filling your day with him.

— —

And so it went day after day, you making sure Jinnie was happy, and unsuspicious. You didn’t let him into your bed anymore, not feeling safe with the prospect. Each night, Hyunjin would reassure you everything would be alright and he’d be home soon, in less than a week in fact. You wanted the days to pass quickly, so you wouldn’t have to be in the house by yourself with Jinnie anymore.

Jinnie slowly started to notice the change, after you turned your head away as he tried to kiss you. He stared at you confused, his eyes trying to catch yours. He tried to kiss you again before you pushed him away. He felt a fire build in his chest at your refusal. Don’t you want, no need him? He’s your boyfriend after all.

“Can I not kiss my girlfriend?” He questioned, reaching out for you.

“I’m not your girlfriend,” you said, not sure what he would do next.

“What do you mean? Of course you’re my girlfriend!” He said with a chuckle.

“You’re not hyunjin!”

This again. Jinnie was tired of hearing you say that. When would you understand he is Hyunjin, the one and only. He is Hyunjn, your boyfriend, the love of your life. Glaring at you, he stepped closer, watching as you stepped back in fear.

“I. Am. Hyunjin.”

Three words, each punctuated in a menacing tone. You were afraid, not sure what he would do. You slowly backed up toward the door, wanting to keep a safe distance between you and the clone.

“Where are you going baby? Why are you running from me?” Jinnie asked, his face falling into a pleading look.

“Stay…stay back!” You shouted as you got closer to the door.

Jinnie began to shake his head, his hands reaching up to grasp at the strands of hair. He dropped them suddenly and rushed towards you, his voice loud and pleading.

“Please baby! I love you! I am Hyunjin! Why are you turning me away?”

You were about to let out a blood curdling scream when Jinnie stopped in his tracks, his face scrunched up in confusion. He tried to move, but found he couldn’t, his eyes on yours. A few more seconds passed before he collapsed on the floor in a heap, his eyes staring straight ahead.

What just happened? You were staring at the clone in shock, too scared to move. Suddenly, you heard a key in the door and stepped away so you wouldn’t get hit. The door opened quickly and Hyunjin stepped through concern on his face as he took in the scene before him.

“Y/n!” He said as he ran to you, engulfing you in his arms for a hug.

You clutched onto his shirt, breathing in his scent that was so familar to you. Hyunjin is here. The real Hyunjin. Your Hyunjin. You buried your face in his chest and began to sob tears of happiness. You were happy this nightmare was over. — — After that eventful day, someone from the company came to take Jinnie away. Hyunjin explained that he was able to get in contact with the manager who spoke with the engineers on possible solutions to your problem. They suggested a system shut down, deactivating the little chip that was implanted in the clones head.

The whole process took thirty minutes, the perfect amount of time for Hyunjin to get from the airport and back to you. He listened as you explained everything that happened, how Jinnie assumed the role of Hyunjin, as he thoroughly was convinced he was the original.

He became obsessed with the role, wanting you to believe it too, which obviously you knew it wasn’t true. After you were done with your tale, Hyunjin cradled you to his body, running his fingers through your hair.

“I’m so glad you’re okay love,” he whispered as he pressed a kiss to your head.

You hummed in agreement, snuggling closer to your lover. “So what happens next? You know…since you won’t have a clone?”

“Oh I’ll have to just make it work and work a little extra, but it’ll be worth it if it means you’re safe.”

Your heart ached at the fact that he would have to put in overtime to pick up the slack, but you understood his stance. You wanted to be safe and with your boyfriend, with no extras in the house such as a clone.

-- -- Life went back to normal after a while. You had a successful fashion show, your designs impressing the judges and catching the eyes of some of the fashion gurus. Hyunjin was working more, but was handling the process with grace.

He always came home to you with a smile on his face, ready to smoother you with love. You were glad to have someone in your bed again, happy that it was your boyfriend as he knew you the best, loved you the best.

Hyunjin made sure to remind you nightly as he sheathed himself within your walls, fucking you nice and slow as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear, as he touched you just right, grinning as you fell apart to his fingers, mouth, cock.

Yes, life was back to normal and the clone was a thing of the past. You were happy to have your ordinary life back, the thought of the clone slowly being pushed into the back of the recesses of your mind. You had to be around the other members clones occasionally, but that you didn’t mind, as they seemed normal and understood their place.

What once was a good idea turned into a nightmare, as sometimes having a copy of yourself can do more harm than good.

taglist: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @armystay89 @palindrome969 @slut4hee @ivydoesit23 @amarecerasus @kaysungshine @fun-fanfics @baby-stay92 @velvetmoonlght @possum-playground @katsukis1wife @my-neurodivergent-world @hanniebaeee @hwanghyunjinismybae @channiesrightasscheek

[fireinmoonshot]

hit the jackpot | tyler owens x fem!reader

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Fem!Reader Summary: When you text your boyfriend for help after someone makes you and your friends uncomfortable at the bar, Tyler is quick to make sure you're okay. Warnings: Mentions of a guy being creepy, references to alcohol and unsafe driving Word Count: 1.2k A/N: Just a short one! I am gonna start working on a longer one hopefully tomorrow, but I just wrote this one tonight after I had the idea and so here it is! I love this Tyler so much. Enjoy! 💗

Tyler was sitting in front of his computer, going through some of the footage they’d gotten today to start editing it for a video on Youtube when his phone buzzed. Usually he’d ignore it so late at night, especially because he was working, but not tonight.

You were out with your friends, celebrating one of their birthday’s at a bar a few blocks from the house you shared with Tyler. He’d wanted to come along, but no one else was bringing a partner so, regretfully, he’d agreed to stay home – but just one text and he’d be there, either to be the designated driver for you and your friends or any other reason.

He figured, from the time of evening, it would be a text asking him to come and pick you and your friends up, but the second he read the message, his computer was forgotten in front of him and he was standing up and heading to the door before he even finished reading.

There’s some guy here being creepy. Can you come by?

With one hand, he typed out a quick On my way and with the other, he grabbed his car keys. He locked the door behind him, not bothering about grabbing a jacket despite the chill in the air, and jogged the few steps to his truck, parked in the driveway. 

Tyler was a safe driver, but that night he drove a little over the speed limit – knowing he shouldn’t but being much more worried about you to care too much – to get to the bar quicker. He pulled up right out the front and was quick to throw the truck in park and jump out, shoving his keys in the pocket of his jeans as he headed towards the door.

It looked busy, people spilling out of the bar onto the street, but Tyler didn’t let that phase him. He pushed through the crowd with ease, his height and the way he held himself almost making the crowd part for him. He paused briefly once he was inside, looking around for you and your friends, and when he spotted you, he didn’t hesitate.

You spotted him getting closer towards you and let out a breath of relief. “Ty, that was so quick,” you said, wrapping an arm around his waist as he reached you. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. 

“Would have been here quicker if I could’ve been, darlin’,” Tyler replied. “Now, where is this creep and what has he been doing?” He gave a quick greeting to your friends, who were standing in a circle, glancing nervously back over their shoulders. 

“He’s the one in the brown shirt with the black hair, just there,” you point the man out, trying to be as discreet as possible, not wanting to pull attention to yourself even though you know that nothing is gonna happen now that Tyler is here. “He just won’t leave us alone. We’ve all told him we’re not interested but he won’t take no for an answer.”

You wondered, briefly, if he had actually moved away from you all, as he was stood talking to another person a few people away from you, but then he glanced back and met your eyes and you could see the interest spark on his face again. 

Tyler didn’t let the man get very close. He hated to let you go, but he knew you were safe behind him as he moved to put himself between your friends and the man so he couldn’t get any closer to them. 

“Hey, ‘scuse me, man, just trying to get past.” The man tried to side-step past Tyler, but he was quick, moving to stand in his way again. 

“I think you should leave,” Tyler said.

The man stopped and raised his eyebrows before letting out a laugh. “Who are you to say that to me, man? I’m just trying to have a nice night and talk to some nice ladies, and I’ve been talking to some just over there all night.” He moved, trying to step around Tyler again.

Tyler moved in his path again. “You listen to me,” he started. “Those ladies want nothing to do with you. I’m not a violent man, but if you try and get past me to get to them one more time, I can’t promise you I won’t become one. So, I am telling you to get the hell outta here.”

You watched for a few moments as the man stared Tyler down, worrying that he was going to take a swing at your boyfriend and create drama. The last thing you wanted was for Tyler to get hurt tonight. The night had already taken a turn for the worst. 

“You need me to tell you again?” Tyler said in response to the silence.

The man scoffed, threw his hands up in the air and turned on his heel, walking out of the bar. You all watched him as he left, letting out a breath of relief when you saw him leave. 

Tyler was quick to come back over to you, wrapping an arm around you again and gently rubbing your arm in an attempt to soothe you. He could tell you were feeling tense – and for good reason. That man was a prick and Tyler was mad he wasn’t here to get rid of him before he made you and your friends so uncomfortable.

“Thank you, Ty,” you leant into his side, giving him a squeeze. 

“No need to thank me, darlin’, protecting you and your friends is my job.” He pressed another kiss to the top of your head. 

Your friends all thanked him as well, relaxing a bit now that the man was gone.

“That’s not the end to the night I was hoping for,” one of your friends said.

“I know,” you pouted. “I was hoping we’d get another hour or two at least.”

Tyler looked down at you. “Who says your night has to end? You can all come back to ours, y’know,” he suggested. “We have drinks and food. Pretty sure my girl has some stuff in the fridge to whip up a quick cheese board. What do you say?”

All of your friends looked to you, hope in their eyes. 

“Ty, are you sure? I know you have some work you need to get done.” 

“Course I’m sure, darlin’. I don’t think your night should be ruined by an asshole like that, and I know how excited you were to spend so much time with your friends. I can just drive them all home when you’re done.”

You couldn’t help but smile as you leant up to press your lips to Tyler’s. He smiled into the kiss as he kissed you back. 

“Okay, let’s go,” you grinned after you broke away from the kiss. “Party continues at ours!”

Tyler kept an arm wrapped around you as you walked out of the bar. Two of your friends walked ahead of you, leading the way. The third leant in to mutter a quick “I think you won the jackpot with your boyfriend” in your ear. You knew that she was a hundred percent right.