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gurugirl · 7 months ago

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Daddy's Pretty Girl | dom!daddy!h

Summary: Harry just wants to make his princess happy OR The story of you and Harry, how you met, and all the rest.

A/n: Requested! This was previously posted on Patreon!

Word Count: 4,385

Warning: Smut, cock warming, exhibition kink (public), daddy kink, DDlg (consented and role play understood), dom/sub dynamic

🌸 🌸 🌸

“Princess? What are you doing?” Harry spoke calmly as he placed his hands on your hips while you balanced yourself on the counter to reach the tallest cupboard.

“I can’t reach this high so I had to climb up here to get something.”

“And why didn’t you ask me for help? Hmm?” He gripped you in his hands and pulled you down to the floor safely.

You’d been caught red-handed. Well, sort of. You hadn’t quite found what you were looking for before Harry noticed you climbing on the counter. It was the package of butter shortbread cookies with the strawberry jam and cream in the center that you were trying to find. Harry hid them from you because every time he brought home your little treats you’d ruin your appetite for dinner and so it was just easier for him to put them somewhere you couldn’t find them.

Pouting you kicked your bare foot against your shin, “Just didn’t want to bother you.”

Harry crossed his arms over his chest and leaned his bottom into the counter as he smirked at you, “Oh is that so? And what were you looking for then?”

You shrugged and looked up at him with your sweetest softest eyes as you bit your lip. He knew what you were looking for. He didn’t even need to ask.

Harry sighed and walked past you to the pantry and reached to the tall shelf pulling down your treats. You smiled widely and clasped your hands together, waiting patiently for him to dole out a few of them to you.

“You don’t have to sneak around, Princess. If you want a little treat I’ll give you a little treat. Just ask. But tell Daddy why he hides these from you. Want to make sure you remember.”

Nodding you responded, “Cause I’ll eat the whole box. Then I won’t eat my dinner. And my tummy always hurts after.”

“That’s right. Because you’re like a little puppy with no off switch when it comes to your treats. You’d inhale the whole package if given the chance.”

“But I just wanted one this time. Promise.”

“You never just want one, Y/n,” he took your chin in his hand, “How many do you want?”

“Can I have three?”

Harry smiled and let go of your chin as he reached into the package and pulled out four of your cookies, handing them to you. He always gave you an extra.

“Thank you, Daddy!” You bit into the first one, the buttery crust of the cookie crumbling into the tart strawberry jam with the cream coating your tongue. “Mmmm…”

“You’re welcome, Princess,” he leaned down to kiss your forehead, “Don’t climb up on the counters like that anymore. Okay? Can’t have you getting hurt over a $5 box of biscuits.”

You sighed and nodded as you chewed your next bite and then followed Harry up to his office where he was finishing work. When he sat down in his chair you sat in his lap and popped the next cookie into your mouth. Harry was used to you interrupting his work and sitting in his lap. He didn’t mind it. In fact, he preferred having you in his lap as often as possible.

“Don’t forget we’re going out tonight. I want you to wear that yellow dress I laid out for you on the bed. Okay?”

You crunched your bite and nodded as you leaned back into Harry’s chest and watched his computer screen as he did whatever it was. You didn’t really even know exactly what he did for work. Something about trading money and buying and selling things or funds or… he tried explaining it to you a few times but it went over your head. All you knew was that he got to work from home and he made a lot of money.

Life was good with Harry. You never imagined you’d have it so good. You didn’t have it easy when you were growing up. When you graduated high school you worked full-time so you could pay rent and buy food. You moved away from your dad the moment you had the chance. He was abusive and mean and he scared you.

So you didn’t go to college because your priority was to get away from your dad which meant you’d need to pay rent for a place to live. But you struggled for a long time. You only made minimum wage and you had no friends or any other family to ask for help. Your dad saw to it that any friends you made didn’t stick around.

And back then, even as hard as it had been working menial jobs and living in a rundown apartment barely scraping by, you were free from your dad. Sure things were expensive and you couldn’t always buy groceries, but you could sleep at night knowing you were safe.

But everything changed for you when you got a job as a waitress at a swanky little downtown joint. High rollers wearing expensive watches and Italian shoes would come in with large wads of cash. And the best part was that the tips they left were very very generous.

In a way, it was your lucky break. You started making a living wage when tips were included in your check and you bought yourself a used car with cash. You were able to afford health insurance, a few nice outfits, and could finally have a refrigerator full of food.

It felt like you were living in the lap of luxury. You weren’t, but you’d never felt such freedom in your life. Waitressing was a good gig for you. You were bubbly and nice and often remembered the names of your usuals. They loved it when you remembered their names.

One night, it was an extra busy shift and you’d been struggling to keep up a bit since two people had called in and you were running around every which way trying to make sure all your tables were well taken care of.

A group of four men were seated in your section and you greeted them but one of them could tell you were flustered. Taking their drink orders you scribbled on your notepad what they wanted when one of the men reached out to pull at your apron, “Take a breath, Y/n.”

You squinted your eyes at him when he said your name. You had a nametag of course, so it wasn’t like some crazy thing that he’d know your name, but your guests didn’t normally say your name to you unless they were regulars. And this man was not a regular.

“I’m serious. Take a deep breath, with me,” he kept his dazzling green eyes pinned to yours as he inhaled and you followed his lead, inhaling and then he exhaled, his breath falling from his pink lips. “See? That wasn’t bad, was it? Now, remember to keep breathing. Inhale, exhale.”

You smiled at the handsome man, “Thank you.”

“My name’s Harry.”

You giggled pointed at your name tag, “Y/n. As you know.”

“Beautiful name.”

Somehow Harry had made your busy and hectic night one of the best nights you’d ever had at the restaurant. He was so thoughtful and gentle with you. And he was handsome as hell. Tall and well built, nice hair, big hands…

So when he showed up a week later you were out of your mind giddy because he was in your section. And his genuine warmth had you flushing hot and made you all exasperated and blubbering your words.

Only that second night, instead of just paying the tab and leaving with a wave goodbye he walked up to you and handed you his card as he softly dragged his fingers over your wrist, “When’s your next day off?”

“Tomorrow,” you inhaled as you looked up at him.

“Call me tomorrow.”

So you did, obviously. And really the rest is history. Harry swept you off your feet and took such good care of you that now here you were two years later and still just as smitten with him as the day you met him.

. . .

You loved getting dressed up and going out with Harry, your big strong man who treated you like a princess. You were spoiled and doted on by him and when he took you out he was always so protective of you. Keeping your hand in his or his arm over your shoulder to hold you close.

He normally helped you pick your outfits too. You usually went with whatever he chose to make him happy. He liked having access to your skin so he could squeeze you and touch you which meant he liked you in short dresses and skirts the most. And anything that kept your shoulders bare so he could kiss them.

And depending on what kind of outing it was, he’d let you know if you were allowed to wear your panties or not. That was one decision you were not allowed to make.

Harry pulled out a pair of cotton panties with little hearts all over. Something that covered your bum in case the flimsy material of your short dress rose up.

“Gotta keep your tush covered tonight, Princess,” he said as he pointed at the bed, gesturing for you to sit down so he could help you put your panties on.

“Okay, Daddy,” you bit your lip as Harry knelt down on the floor in front of you and lifted up one of your bare feet, sliding the opening upward and then repeating on your other leg.

He liked to make a show of how he did it. Slow and teasing. He brought the fabric up to just below your knees and ran his hands up your thighs as he kept his eyes on yours, “Doesn’t mean Daddy won’t want to play with you, though. Pussy’s so good for me s’hard to resist. Maybe we’ll have you in my lap again. Let you sit on my cock right in front of all your friends. And you’ll be a good girl just like last time and keep quiet and not shift all around. How’s that sound? Wanna warm Daddy’s cock tonight when the time is right?”

You nodded and grinned, “Oh my god… I loved it when we did that so much. Love that no one knew except you, Daddy.”

By the time Harry had helped you into your panties, you were already slick from the dirty things he was saying to you and the way he was running his thumbs so close to your pussylips but just missing where you wanted to be touched.

You were meeting friends out for trivia night at the little pub that served the best pizza in town. Harry had his hand wrapped around yours as you both greeted everyone and sat at the booth with them all.

You weren’t sure how it would be possible to cock warm Harry given how many people were smushed into the booth with you both but when he pulled you into his lap, grunting, “S’not enough room, get up in m’lap,” you understood he wasn’t going to let you worry about all that. Harry was in charge. He would figure out how it would work. All you had to do was sit there, perched on his lap looking pretty.

He didn’t make a move to undo his pants or adjust you at all, first just feeling everyone out as you sat with your plush bottom over his thighs and ordered your vodka lemonade.

When the cards were all passed out and the trivia questions began to pop up on the screen everyone had their teams ready. All your friends knew better than to ask which team you wanted to be on because they already knew your answer would be that you were on whatever team Harry was on.

Maybe it was a little pathetic but you honestly didn’t care. He was the love of your life and your best friend. He loved you so much and treated you like you were the best thing that’d ever happened to him and so of course you were going to choose to be with Harry. Even if it was just for a trivia game at a bar.

His big palm splayed across your bare thigh as he whispered into your ear, “I love you.” You wiggled into him and turned to whisper back, “Love you, Daddy.”

It was sickening to everyone around you but also kind of cute in a way. You two were that couple. PDA was part of the package deal if they wanted to hang out with you. The first six months everyone kind of laughed it off. They said you two would chill out once the honeymoon phase was over. But here you were nearly 2 years later and if anything you two were even more touchy-feely.

Trivia nights were once a month. Harry liked to make sure you were spending time with other people and not just him. He wanted you to have friends and get out as much as you could.

When the game started and the pizza was plated you felt Harry’s arm slide around the front of your waist as you wrote down the answer that was discussed between your team. You were always the one in charge of writing down the answers.

“Take it easy on that vodka lemonade, Princess. Need you to have your wits about you when we get home. Okay?”

You nodded and turned to whisper in his ear, cupping around the back of it so no one could read your lips, “When are you gonna stuff me with your big cock, Daddy? Want you inside of me.”

Harry grunted and pinched your thigh shushing at you before he gulped down the last of his water. Harry didn’t drink when you two went out if he was driving. He let you drink but he didn’t like to have any alcohol in his system if he was going to be behind the wheel.

When the game was nearly coming to an end and your team was winning the final round the final category was music, as usual. 30 seconds of a song you had to guess was played for 10 songs. You could double your points if you knew both the name of the artist and the name of the song.

This was the part of the night when the people were boozed up and laughing.

Mel, who was sitting to Harry’s left tapped his arm, “Gotta go take a leak, mind if I scooch out?”

You and Harry had to move to let Mel out but when you both got back into the booth you scooted further in and realized Harry’s cock was solid under your bum. You leaned forward, putting your elbows onto the table, and felt Harry spread your skirt over his lap before he lifted his hips and the next song to guess came over the speakers.

You were distracted by Harry’s movements so you weren’t taking note of the song at all until Gessie poked your wrist with her finger, “So I think that was Bruce Springsteen. But what’s the song?” She snapped her fingers and looked at the other person who was on your team. As the pair were discussing which song it could be you felt the warm, stiff flesh of Harry’s dick under your thigh and you lifted just a bit to blurt out the name of a song you thought of off the top of your head, “Glory Days?”

Your panties were pulled to the side before you felt Harry’s fingers slip through your puffy, wet folds and then he pulled at your hips to draw you back toward him, only this time instead of sitting on his lap, you slowly, slowly slid over his cock. Your skirt was covering him and everything happening underneath.

You sighed when you had him stuffed inside of you and he panted softly into your ear, “Don’t wiggle around too much. Just sit still like a good girl.”

See, wiggling too much might have Harry coming. It’d happened before. The first time you cock warmed him in public (yes, there were multiple occurrences) you were so turned on and flustered that you kept swaying back and forth and squeezing around him. And he tried holding you in place but the whole experience of doing something like that in public was new for both of you. You were both excited and it didn’t help that you were pulsing around him and softly moaning.

When he came he had to act like you’d elbowed him in the gut when someone asked if he was okay. His pained expression and groan were easily played off as something rather innocent.

But Harry preferred coming inside of you only when it was an appropriate time. Usually in private but sometimes in the sex club you both frequented. You did have an exhibitionism kink so fucking at the sex club while others watched was welcome. But not at a local bar during trivia night.

When Mel returned you and Harry didn’t need to move as he sat at the end. You struggled to write down the last few answers as you began to pant softly and felt the liquid from your pussy dribble down.

“I’m gonna get your pants all messy, Daddy. I’m sorry.”

Harry rocked his hips up and you gasped as he adjusted your seating and pulled you closer, “It’s fine baby. You’re doing so good for me.”

And as much as you loved the thrill of secretly cock warming Harry like you were, there was always the issue of parting. If anyone was sat too close they’d see Harry’s cock in all its glory once you removed yourself from him. So you had to be careful about how it was done. Normally you’d order one last drink just as everyone else was paying their bill and getting ready to leave, that way when you two were the last to leave no one really wondered why since you still had a full drink to get through.

And that’s what you did this time as well. Mel hung around for a bit and you just hoped he couldn’t tell you were practically trembling from the way Harry’s cock was splitting you in half right in front of the guy as he yammered on about his job with Harry.

Your skin was hot and you were nearly drooling into your vodka lemonade at the way it felt.

You could tell Harry was at his wits end as well. You’d feel him throb every now and then. The small grunts he’d let out were also a good signal that he was struggling just as much as you were.

The moment Mel slid out of the booth and waved goodbye Harry’s hand was up, motioning to the waiter to ask for the bill for you two. He held your hips and rocked upward a couple of times before he began to pull out of you, “Nice and easy. Oop, stop right there,” he tightened a hand on your hip to keep you steady as he slid his pants up and kept your skirt covering the action.

You were a wobbly, sighing mess of a girl as he got you into his car and took you home.

“Daddy’s gonna take care of you baby. Gonna take away that achiness inside, yeah?” He spoke to you as you were pulled into the house before he lifted you up and carried you to the bed.

You were in a hurry. You needed him right then as you whined and began to pull at your panties but Harry swatted at your thigh, “Let Daddy do it. You just lie there and look pretty for me. My little Princess doesn’t need to lift a finger.”

That was the norm. He preferred you to lay comfortably all spread out underneath him while he did all the work.

He loved the sight of you. Your skin was hot and your limbs were already shaking with need by the time he finally began to lick your pussy. Soft strokes with his tongue only got you even more worked up and had you whimpering and fussing about, “P… please! Daddy!!”

Harry grinned into your pussy, pushing his briefs down his muscled thighs, lips wrapped around your clit as you bucked up into him and pulled at his hair. You were a mess. You needed one thing and one thing only.

“Daddy I need your cock, now!! I’m gonna die if I don’t get it! Oh my god, you’re so mean!”

You felt puffs of air against your wet slit as he laughed and looked up at you, “You’re going to die are you? Wow. That sounds like it’s bad, baby. Tell Daddy what he did that was mean,” he leaned over you, his strong arm reaching over your body to knead at your tits.

You pouted and lifted your head to look at him. You hadn’t even realized he’d already removed his briefs so he was fully naked, cock thick and hard between his thighs, “You… you’re not giving me your dick. And I need it.”

Another breathy laugh fell from his lips, “But I was licking your pussy. Making sure you were ready for me, Princess. Can’t just fuck my pretty girl without her little pussy hole being ready first now can I?”

You sniffled and kept the sad pout on your face so he knew you meant business.

Harry moved his hand up to your chin and squeezed your cheeks, “Don’t pout. Daddy always gives his pretty girl exactly what she wants. Doesn’t he?”

You nodded with a whine.

“That’s right. So don’t be a dramatic bellyaching brat with me. I’m just loving on you, Princess. Trying to take care of you the best I can. You’re hard to please sometimes.”

“Am not!” You countered, your words smushed together as you said them.

Harry let go of your cheeks and you felt him knee up between your legs, his thick masculine thighs pushed against the insides of your thighs as he smoothed his thumb over your mound and down to your clit, “You are. But that’s okay. Because you’re my little princess, aren’t you? She needs her Daddy to take good care of her.”

You began to take shallow breaths into your lungs as you watched him wrap his big hand around his cock and look into your eyes as he reared back, “And Daddy always gives his pretty girl what she wants. Do you know why, baby?”

You sighed as you felt the tip of him press against your empty hole. You wanted it so bad you could taste it, “Because I’m a good girl. Cause you love me, Daddy.”

“Fucking right, Princess. Daddy loves you,” he pressed into you, the girth of him opening your channel in one satisfyingly agonizing plunge. He didn’t snap his hips, but he drove into you until he was finally surrounded, encased fully in your pussy. And as he pulled you close to his chest he continued rocking into you with slow, languid strokes. Full length. He’d pull out to his tip and fuck back into you without pause until he met your cervix and he’d do it again. Nothing hard or fast. Just strong, deep, and teasingly slow.

His breath was on your face as he looked down into your eyes, “God… how’d I get so lucky, huh? Someone who needs me just as much as I need her.” He rolled into you slowly, the sopping mess between your legs just proving his point.

He fucked you dumb most nights. But some nights he was tender and warm. Sometimes he liked to take it slow and gaze into your eyes as he slid himself in and out of you, calling you his princess, his pretty girl, baby…

“Mm… me too!” You breathed out, “So lucky, Daddy. I love you…”

He dropped his lips to your neck as he continued fucking into you at the same pace he had been. Dripping wet, sticky, deep thrusts as you both panted.

You began to buck your hips upward to meet each of his thrusts. You couldn’t help the motion your hips were making as you moaned when Harry took your breast into his mouth.

He sucked on your nipple and felt your cunt squeezing him tight. You were so close already, like he knew you would be. You’d gotten all worked up cock warming him earlier and now you were gagging for it.

“You’re like a little slip-and-slide, pretty girl. Pussy all slippery and soaking wet just for my cock.”

“Uhnnnghh…” you groaned as you felt your insides begin to tingle and sparkle.

“You can come, Princess. Come on Daddy’s cock. I know you want to,” he panted, his own orgasm about to burst, “Easy there…”

You began to shake, your tummy tensed and your pussy clamped down as you sputtered out your words, “Coming! C… ffffuuu… Daaaaady!”

The beautiful spiral of your orgasm wiped you out as Harry continued fucking into you, his cock spreading your walls apart as you spasmed over him, “Pretty girl… so fucking good for Daddy…”

But he could only last so long himself until he was pinning you to the bed with his hips, cock buried deep as he dumped his fertile come into your pulsing hole, “Fuck! Fuck… oh shit…” his face twisted up in bliss.

It had been a bit of a quickie. But who could blame you? After suffering through what you had to during trivia, you both needed relief.

You ran your fingers into his hair and he nuzzled into your neck with a sigh. You both needed a minute to gather your bearings.

When you felt Harry shifting and pulling back so he could look down at you he slid a hand around to your bottom, “Let’s go get your cookies, baby,” he squeezed at your bum as you sat up.

“How many can I have?” You bounced on your bottom before you began to scoot to the end of the bed to hop off.

“As many you want, Princess.”

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this! 2nd part is a Patreon exclusive and is already on Patreon now! Consider joining if you'd like to see more!

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jinwoosbabyboo · 4 months ago

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“Will You Marry Me?"

How I imagine LADS Men would propose. This is part 2 of 2. I tried to do the sweet elegant writing, but that ain't me so here you go....

Xavier

Our lover boy Xavier is a literal prince. I feel as though he'd be very traditional with his proposal. The only unfortunate part is he can't ask for your fathers/family blessing because you know .... Anyway :)

He would definitely court you for a week even if you’ve already been together for over a year. The day of his proposal he would take you to a spot only he knows that has zero light pollution. Of course it’s deep in the forest.

MC: If I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re trying to kill me and hide my body Xavier: You have such creative thoughts MC: Seriously where are we going? Xavier: Somewhere special MC: So mysterious even after a year of dating

He’d bring you to a clearing that seemed like it was being lit up by a spotlight. It’s not though he chose to propose on a night with a full moon and clear skies so you could see how beautiful the stars are without all the city lights.

MC: It’s otherworldly Xavier: This was my favorite place to come when I needed clarity MC: Why didn’t you show me sooner? Xavier: I wanted to save it for a special day MC: oh what are you going to propose or something?

You’d be laughing and boom he pulls a ring out of his pocket shutting you right up.

MC: Oh shit! You’re really proposing Xavier: Yes im really proposing

His speech is so sweet it could give you cavities not only would he emphasize how much he loves you he’d let you know just how much he is solely yours. Even if you were to one day forget him and how much he loves you he would still always be yours and would do anything to keep you safe & most of all happy.

Xavier: My lady will you marry me? MC: I want nothing more

He might’ve been sweet and soft spoken during his proposal but that shy boy facade went out the window when you two got back home.

Sylus

It’s canon that Sylus gets nervous when he wants to ask you out. So just imagine how nervous he is getting ready to propose! He already constantly gifts you pretty gems and the gifts just keep increasing over the course of 3 months.

He second guesses himself thinking you may say no so he keeps putting it off but continues to shower you in gifts, quality time, full body massages, shopping sprees, dinner dates, lunch dates, you name it he’s doing it, you want it he got it. He’d be spoiling you so much you’d have to sit him down and ask him what’s going on. He would dismiss your concerns of course.

MC: Are you guys leaving for a while? Kieran: Why do you ask? MC: Sylus has been acting weird I feel like he’s about to disappear again Luke: That was one time and boss only did that because you asked him to leave you alone MC: I know but I’m worried now Luke: Relax miss hunter you’re overthinking

The twins would indeed gaslight you while Sylus worked up the nerve to propose. When he finally has the nerve to do it he goes all out. I’m talking he'd rent out the most exquisite restaurant money can buy. A whole staff at your beck and call. He'd wine and dine you with delicious food and expensive wine. By the time dessert comes you'd want answers.

MC: You're leaving me aren't you Sylus: Jumping to conclusions are we? MC: I'm serious Sylus you haven't been yourself lately you're worrying me Sylus: I guess this is the part where I explain myself

With two snaps of his fingers the twins would rush out; Kieran placing a giant box bouquet of red roses in your arms and Luke placing a crown on your head before rushing out leaving the two of you alone.

MC: What's this? and what am I a Princess? Sylus: You are and I'd love to change your title to Queen MC: Stop are you....

I don't picture Sylus giving a long winded speech. I feel like he would be the type to write it down so you could cherish his words forever.

Sylus: Will you marry me Miss Hunter? You can say no if- MC: Of course I'll marry you

Yet again I'm tackling this man as soon as he slips that ring on. Need to be in his arms immediately. Expeditiously.

Zayne & Rafayel here…

#love and deepspace #sylus love and deepspace #lnds sylus #sylus #love and deepspace sylus #lads #lads xavier #lnds xavier #lnds #xavier love and deepspace #nikaaaaimagine

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thedisablednaturalist · 1 year ago

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Literally all the shit rich people have turned into luxuries are stuff many disabled people need (or would need to manage their pain but can't afford it)

Comfy ergonomic chairs

Indoor pool/hot tub (therapy bath)

Massages on the regular

Aides (rich people call them servants)

Yea even a cook who makes you special meals (perfect for people with special dietary needs and for those with severe allergies, as well as people who are in too much pain or are otherwise unable to cook)

Elevators in your house (even small ones just for groceries, my rich aunt has one in her beach house!)

Rich people don't buy these for fun I hope but custom powerchairs are obscenely expensive. It pisses me off when I see another person invent "the wheelchair of the future!" Which then is literally never fucking used because none of us can afford it (and insurance definitely won't pay)

Indoor gyms or even personal exercise equipment. Hard to go out to a gym somewhere else when you're disabled, especially if you are immunocompromised

Outdoor spaces to relax in. It's literally vital for your mental health to at least see the outdoors. I'd rather be bedridden in a sunroom (with retractable blinds) than a shitty apartment with one tiny window.

There's even freaking health retreats these people go to regularly. There's a fibromyalgia retreat in new york where they basically take care of all your needs while trying different treatments and seeing which ones help. Either it's heaven or making money off of scamming desperate people who are able to scrape the money together to go.

Private planes, which I honestly think shouldn't exist, but one that specifically catered to people with disabilities (spaces for wheelchairs/other mobility devices, accessible handicapped airplane bathroom, anxiety reducing tools, trained medical personnel and care team)

Also customized cars, except instead of making gas guzzling racecars to joyride in while everyone else is trying to get to work, cars with electric ramps, lifts, doors, cars customized for someone with limb differences. Those cars where you can roll your wheelchair right up to the wheel. Fuck even self driving cars once they are no longer deathtraps.

Skincare products that are safe for sensitive skin like eczema but also actually work

Nice-looking clothes customized to fit limb differences, access points, look good in wheelchairs, colostomy bags, etc. while also being comfortable and not fast fashion.

Dental care!!! What the fuck why is this shit so expensive!! I don't want my teeth to fall out!! (Disabled people usually need more dental care bc we have a harder time keeping up maintenance)

Rich people go and splurge on all of these even though they don't need them while calling disabled people selfish for begging their insurance for even one of these.

#disability #chronic disability #chronic pain #chronic illness #fibromyalgia #spoonie #wheelchair #wrenfea.exe #i hope one day i can get even a small therapy tub #bc hot water therapy is one of the best things for my pain #and swimming is the only painless exercise i can do

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alchemistc · 3 months ago

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He's at the kitchen sink rinsing dishes when the lock mechanism clicks in his front door. Something zings up his spine, that familiar little tingle that means he's about to be showered with affection and attention.

He doesn't turn, mostly because he's bound and determined to act normal just this fucking once (he's too in his head about the way money had exchanged hands the last time Tommy had met them all at the bar and he'd leapt from the table to greet him). The door sways open, almost silent except for the creak right at the end that no amount of WD40 seems to fix.

Buck rinses another dish.

Keys in the dish on the side board, the soft thump of Tommy's duffle on the bottom stair, the snick of the lock latching again, and the gentle pattern of work boots across the floor. Buck's a little surprised that Tommy doesn't say anything - he's nowhere near the same level of talkative as Buck but he's rarely solidly quiet.

Arms curl around his middle, thick wide hands shifting over the belly Buck's stopped worrying so much about keeping trim, since that two-week span he'd pinched a nerve and been told in no uncertain terms to take it fucking easy or risk mobility issues for the rest of his life and he'd decided to call them cheat weeks. Tommy's nose slides along his back, his lips shift over the knob of Buck's spine, two-day beard scratches at the exposed skin of Buck's neck and Tommy sighs, long and deep and tired.

"Hey," Buck says, a still damp hand curling over the bulk of Tommy's forearm, and Tommy hums against the back of his head.

Buck waits a beat while Tommy sort of slumps his weight into Buck's back.

And it's this - this bone deep calm that shivers over both of them at the end of a long day - this knowledge that they can finally unwind in each other's presence. That just like Tommy is happy to let Buck unload after a rough shift, Tommy is willing to take that same comfort from Buck. Buck never has to chase to figure out what he can do to help Tommy. He never has to guess at what Tommy needs to feel supported. Tommy will take - and when he's not sure, or it feels too much, he'll ask. No mixed signals, no needs unmet, no over the top gestures to overcompensate. Just.

"Hi," Tommy says, and presses a kiss to the dimple of Buck's skull. "Smells good in here."

There's a roast keeping warm in the oven, some simple thing Buck had asked Bobby's help in perfecting because Tommy "Meat and Potatoes" Kinard had finally admitted he hadn't had a good roast since his mother passed and he missed them. And Buck hadn't known Tommy'd had a shitty shift until well after he'd thrown the roast in but the terse, one word responses to Buck's texts and the lack of typical post-shower selfie had been a pretty good indication.

"Go sit. I'll grab you some wine. Dinner should be - ten-ish minutes?*

Tommy's arms tighten. One big hand presses into his stomach, just enough to tip Buck back into the cradle of Tommy's hips, just enough to make them flush from head to toe. "Gimme a minute, Buckley," Tommy murmurs, and Buck feels that buzz under his skin, can't help the shit eating grin that curls his lips. Tommy's nose digs into his curls. "Come home just for hugs and you tell me to sit down," he scoffs, and Buck doesn't waste any more time pretending to do dishes - he gets the faucet off and sways back into Tommy to make himself just enough room to spin, arms already coming up even as Tommy hooks a chin over his shoulder and digs into the meat of it.

Tommy's back is tense at Buck's first pass, but by the time he's rubbed up and down another two times he's sort of melted bonelessly into Buck's front, a few shuddering sighs drawing from somewhere deep inside his chest to make a home in Buck's collar bone.

He wants to stick Tommy in his pocket and take care of him, but barring any shrink ray technology he'll settle for being a safe place for Tommy to land.

"Love you," Buck murmurs into the hair curling over Tommy's ear - because he can, because the word had been so terrifyingly easy to say the first time and has only gotten better from there.

Tommy huffs against his cheek. "Trying to pepper me with words to get me off you? Not gonna work. Might just stay here all night now.*

*We'd get uncomfortable standing so long." Tommy hums. "We wouldn't be able to eat."

"Can't have that."

"I'll let you play footsie with me for dinner."

"I'm close to accepting your terms. You got a kicker?"

"There's cannoli in the fridge for after."

Tommy whistles, impressed and only a little mocking. "I get five spontaneous handholds, too," he negotiates, like Buck doesn't blush deep as a tomato every time Tommy snags his hand just to hold it.

"Are they still spontaneous if -."

"Yes."

"Shake on it?"

Tommy flicks his tongue against his teeth. Seems to contemplate it for a moment, and then licks a line up Buck's neck instead. "That binding enough for you?"

Buck doesn't bother to hide the way his dick twitches against the seam of his zipper. Tommy chuckles.

"That a yes?"

Buck only eyes up Tommy's neck for soot before he follows Tommy's example.

#bucktommy #bucktommy ficlet #tevan

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tokkiwrites · 2 months ago

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ᴍᴏʀɴɪɴɢ ᴡᴏᴏᴅ & ᴀɴɢᴇʟ ᴄᴀᴋᴇ

summary: your dad's birthday is coming up, and you want to buy something special, but you're short a couple hundred dollars. not wanting to change your idea for a gift you ask his best friend, Joel Miller, to help you out until you get more money. He agrees but surcharges. tags: pwp, dbf!joel, f!reader, afab reader, age gap (legal, the reader is 22, joel is in his mid forties), kind of slut shaming i dunno, fingering f receiving, head m receiving, dirty talk galore, pet names galore, p in v unprotected. (lmk if i missed anything)

/ᐠ - ˕ -マ⁩ authors note 𑁯 ✿ Woah i dunno what this was, kind of lame but i desperately need dbf joel to give it to me. 4.03k words but its mostly exposition. not proofread!!!

Your dad's birthday was just around the corner, and this year, you wanted to get him something that truly mattered. The usual gifts—grilling tools, books, maybe a bottle of whiskey—didn’t feel right. You’d found something more special, something that spoke to him. It was a vintage guitar, similar to the one he had when he was younger, the one he used to play for you on lazy sunday afternoons. You knew it would bring back memories for him, and maybe, just maybe, he’d start playing again.

But there was one big problem—you couldn’t afford it. You were short. A couple hundred dollars short, and no matter how you shifted your budget, it just wouldn’t work. You’d gone over your options more times than you could count, and each time, you felt that pang of disappointment grow stronger. You weren’t someone who liked asking for help. You always tried to handle things on your own, but this time, there was no way around it.

That’s when Joel came to mind. Maybe he could help.

Joel Miller had been your dad’s best friend for as long as you could remember. He was the one who was always around, helping out when your dad needed a hand with anything or just dropping by for a beer and a quiet conversation. Joel had a way about him—steady, unshakable. Older, but not in a way that dulled him. His rough edges made him seem more dependable, like someone who’d been through enough to know what really mattered.

Over the years, you’d noticed things about him. Little things. The way his voice, low and gravelly, would call out your name with a slow drawl that sent a small shiver down your spine and straight to your cunt. The way his hands, calloused from years of hard work, looked when they were fixing something or just resting casually on the steering wheel of his truck. Somewhere along the line, what started as casual observations turned into a quiet crush. It was ridiculous, really. He was your dad’s best friend, and you were way too young for him. But that didn’t stop the way your heart skipped whenever you saw him or how your breath caught when he gave you one of those long, unreadable looks.

You’d always had this childish, gnawing thing for Joel, even though you knew it was wrong. He was someone who’d practically watched you grow up. But that didn’t stop your mind from wandering in all the wrong places. Over the years, you’d caught yourself daydreaming about him, what he'd do to you, imagining what it would be like if things were different—if you were his.

It wasn’t just his looks, though those didn’t hurt. Joel had that rugged charm about him—broad shoulders, rough hands, and a way of carrying himself that made you feel safe and small in a way that made your mind spiral. you wanted to be at his mercy. You couldn’t help but notice the lines that deepened around his eyes when he smiled, the slow, steady way he spoke, that gentle drawl making every word sound like it was meant just for you. And those moments when his gaze lingered a second too long—when his eyes would flicker over you in a way that made your pulse quicken—you’d catch yourself wondering if maybe, just maybe, he saw you differently too.

But it was just fantasy. Joel was older, your dad’s best friend, and he’d never cross that line. You told yourself that over and over, but it didn’t stop the thoughts from creeping in. Late at night, when you were alone, you’d let yourself imagine— touching yourself while wondering. What if you weren’t who you were, and he wasn’t who he was? What if, in another life, he could be more than just your dad’s friend? You’d picture his hands on you, the way his voice might sound close to your ear, the roughness of his touch, the warmth of his breath on your skin.

But every time, reality pulled you back. Joel would never see you that way. It was impossible. You were just the kid he’d known for years, nothing more. Still, the fantasy lingered, a secret you kept tucked away, knowing it could never become anything real.

right?

You hadn’t planned on asking him for help. It wasn’t something you were comfortable with, especially not from Joel. But as the days ticked by and you couldn’t figure out how to make the money work, the idea crept into your mind more and more. He was reliable, and if anyone would help you out without making you feel bad about it, it would be Joel. You sat with your phone in your lap for what felt like forever, staring at his name on the screen. It took a few deep breaths before you finally hit call. The phone barely rang twice before you heard his familiar voice on the other end.

"Hey, darlin'," he spoke, the warmth of his voice instantly grounding you. "Somethin' wrong?" His concern was real. Joel wasn’t the type to waste words, and for a second, you thought about backing out. But then you thought about the gift, about your dad’s face when he saw it, and the words spilled out.

"Hey, Joel. I’m okay, just... I need a favor," you admitted, biting your lip, feeling the awkwardness rise in your chest. There was a soft chuckle on the other end of the line, the sound rumbling through the phone. "You? Ask for a favor? Must be somethin’ important."

You smiled despite yourself, already feeling some of the tension ease. “It’s about dad’s birthday. I found this perfect gift, but I’m short a couple hundred dollars, and... I hate asking, but I don’t know what else to do.” Joel was quiet for a moment, and you held your breath. Then, his voice came through, steady as always. "How much you need?" You blinked, surprised at how quick he was to offer. "Uh, about two hundred. I swear I’ll pay you back as soon as I—"

"Don’t worry ‘bout that," Joel cut you off, his tone so casual it almost threw you. "Come by later, we’ll figure it out."

And that was it. He hung up before you had a chance to protest, leaving you sitting there, a mixture of relief and something else bubbling inside you. Later came quicker than you expected, and before long, you found yourself driving out to his place. The sun was low in the sky, casting the road in golden light as you drove the familiar route. Joel lived just outside town, far enough out that it always felt like stepping into a different world when you visited him.

When you pulled into his driveway, his old truck was parked out front, dust-covered and reliable, much like the man himself. The air was warm, the sun casting long shadows across his yard, and for a moment, you sat in your car, your heart thudding in your chest. You didn’t know why you were so nervous—this was just Joel, after all—but something about this felt different. It wasn’t just about asking for money. Before you could second-guess yourself, you got out of the car and walked up to his front door. Your shoes crunched against the gravel, and the soft thud of your knock on the door sounded too loud in this quiet evening.

Joel opened the door almost immediately, like he’d been waiting for you all this time. He stood there, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, his dark eyes fixed on you. For a second, you were caught in his gaze, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. "Hey, darlin'," he greeted, his voice soft but thick with that familiar gruff.

"Hi, Joel," you replied, stepping inside, trying to hide your apparent blush. The smell of wood and something faintly musky filled the air, and the room felt like it always did—warm, safe. You’d been here countless times, but today, something felt different. Maybe it was just you. You sat down on the couch, trying to calm your nerves, while Joel took his usual spot across from you, leaning back in his chair with that easy posture, his eyes still lingering on you. There was something about the way he looked at you tonight, something that made your skin prickle with awareness.

“So,” he started, his voice low, “you need a little help with this gift, huh?” You nodded, feeling suddenly self-conscious under his gaze. “Yeah. It’s more expensive than I thought. I didn’t want to ask, but…” Joel shook his head, cutting you off. “You ain’t gotta explain. I told you I’d help, didn’t I?” Relief washed over you, but then, as you glanced back at him, you caught the way his eyes hadn’t left yours. There was something different in them now—something that made your heart race a little faster. "But," Joel continued, his tone dropping just a notch, slower now, like he was considering each word carefully, "you know me. I don’t do favors for nothin’."

Your breath hitched. There was an intensity in his voice, in the way he was watching you, that sent a rush of heat through your body. You felt your folds dripping through your white cotton panties. He wasn’t just talking about the money, and you knew it. The room seemed smaller, the air between you thick with something, your pulse plummeting under his steady gaze.

You swallowed, suddenly unsure of how to respond. You’d known Joel your whole life, but this—this was different. The way he was looking at you now wasn’t like anything you’d felt from him before, hungry, and it made you both nervous and excited, a dangerous mix you didn’t know how to handle. He leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees, his eyes never leaving yours. "So," he drawled, his voice like gravel, "what’re you gonna give me in return?"

"A-Anything.." You spoke up, the words cascading out before you could even process them. "That so?" You see him smile, looking down at his hands. "You're a big girl... I think you know what i want." Your heart almost stops. Joel stands up, slowly inching himself closer. "Joel, Iㅡ" you try to protest, not quite sure what to make of what he just said. "You think i don't know? think i dont notice how you look at me, always wearin' those skimpy clothes when 'm around...tryna' look innocent." the rhythm of your heart races, realizing what is really happening. you were to afraid to look up, afraid of what he'll say next, so you stuck to staring at the ground. "You think i couldn't hear ya touchin' yourself, moanin' my name, when I stayed over? God, woke up with the biggest morning wood ever that dayㅡ felt like a fuckin' teenager." he chuckles to himself, rough fingertips trailing your shoulder, finally reaching your chin. he grabs a hold of it, turning your head harshly so you could look at him. your blushed skin burned, eyes wide with expectation.

"Joel, 'm sorry, pleaseㅡ"

"Oh, so now you beggin'? could've come to me so long ago 'n ask me nicely to give it to you, sweet girl. Guess this is where you repay me for helpin' out with your dad's gift and for all those boners you made me power through." is this really happening? your eyes dart around the room, but he's quick to grab tightly on your cheeks, making your gazes meet. "You look at me when I'm talkin' to you, angel." His eyes were dark, intense, filled with something you couldn’t quite decipher, but it made your stomach twist with a mixture of fear and something else you were ashamed to nameㅡ you could try to deny it but the way your cunt pulsed when he talked to you that way was your biggest enemy. "Joel, please—" you started again, your voice shaky, but he cut you off with a low, humorless chuckle, his thumb brushing along your jaw, keeping you in place.

"Don't 'please' me, darlin'," he murmured, his voice dipping even lower, eyes now on your obvious cleavage. "You've been teasin’ me for years now, comin' ‘round lookin’ all sweet and innocent, actin' like you didn’t know what you were doin’. Always starin' at me with those big eyes, waitin' for me to make a wrong move." he was right and you hated to admit it. he held you firm, his grip unrelenting. " I didn't mean—"

"Oh, I think you meant every bit of it," he said, his lips curling into a small smile, head lowering. "But now look where that’s got you. You came to me for help, and I agreed to help, didn’t I? Now it’s time to give somethin' back." your pulse thudded loudly in your ears, drowning out everything but him, his voice, the feeling of him so close. You’d never thought it would be like this, not with Joel. You couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, caught between the fantasy you'd let grow over the years and the reality of what was happening now.

"You're gonna be good for me, aren't you? Gonna be a good little girl 'n let me have at you?" he asked, his voice a low rasp, like gravel scraping across your skin, the words sinking deep into your bones. "Yㅡyes." you say, voice was quiet, buried under the arousal, the want for more and his honey words. "Atta girl." Joel leaned in slowly, giving you time to pull back if you wanted to, but you didn't. You couldn't. Instead, you tilted your head up, closing the distance between you, your lips finally meeting his in a kiss. The moment his lips touched yours, it was like everything clicked into place. There was no hesitation, no uncertainty anymore. His kiss was slow but sure, his hand moving to the back of your neck, pulling you closer. You sighed into him, hands instinctively resting on his chest, feeling the warmth of him, the roughness that made him like a drug to you.

a few moments pass, and joel pulls away from the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your lips, one that he breaks when his rough thumb drags itself across your bottom lip. "pretty, pretty girl." you moan, you feel so pathetic. he's barely touched you, yet you feel the pool growing inside your panties by the second.

"p-please, joel.."

"please, what, angel cake? gotta tell me exactly what ya want." he smiles, prepping soft pecks onto your face. "t-touch me..please." you gather the courage to speak up, watching his eyes grow darker as he hears your request. "fuck, baby...what would your dad say if he heard you just then, huh? what if he saw what a cock desperate slut you are?" chuckling low, his fingers tangle themselves in your hair, making you whimper. "don't c-care.."

" 'Course you don't. Always knew you were a little whore. well, right now you'll be my little whore, right?" he tilts his head to the side, his thumb urging your mouth to open. "c'mon, girl, open." and you do as you're told, opening you mouth wide, tongue lulled out. he then gathers some spit in his mouth before letting the glistening droplet fall from his lips onto your tongue. "Swallow it. Let me seeㅡ" its so overwhelming, so dirty, and he didn't even do anything. at this moment, it feels as if only a slight nip at your skin could send you over the edge. "You know your place, yeah, baby?" you hum eagerly, not sure what his next request will be but ready to fulfill it and give him your all. "tell me. you really wanna do this." Guilt clawed at your heart. Yet, you couldn't stop what you felt. it was wrong, but in this moment, it felt so right. "need you, Joel, please.."

"fuck, okay angel."

his large hands start to pull at your clothes, undressing you slowly, savoring and drinking you up with his eyes. your naked body was shivering, you didn't know if it was from the temperature or because of the anticipation playing with your heartstringsㅡ you just knew you needed to give everything you had to Joel. make him proud. "i got you, babygirl." you feel yourself get picked up and placed onto the old leather couch in the middle of the living room, the cold surface making you jump a little. joel leans in, trailing soft kisses down the curve of your hip all the way to your mid thigh, as you try to bite back your moans. "Let me hear you, baby, don't hold back. you wanna make me proud, don't ya?" Oh, you do.

"gonna let me ruin you, angel girl?" and it feels like your heart could run a marathon. you nod away, eagerly. you feel so pathetic, all sprawled out naked under him, whilst he's still dressed. "words, baby. you that stupid already? I ain't even fucked you yet 'n you can't even say one word. tsk." he mocks you, twirling with your hardened nipples. "i'mㅡ please, joel, please..." you almost cry. he laughs, fingers finally reaching your dripping folds and swirling around them "fuck, darlin', you're so wet. all this for me, hm? this pussy cryin' for an old man like me?" he teases "yes, only f-for you...please."

"that's right." Joel kisses the side of your neck, nibbling at the skin whilst he finally pushes inside of you one of his rugged fingers, making your back jolt and arch. you cover your mouth with your palms, shocked by the own sound you just made. "Keep moanin' for me, little girl. let me hear how good I make you feel.." his words flood over you, as the knot in your tummy tightly turns, Joel's cologne swirling in your nostrils and getting you drunk off of it and this feeling. "so tight, baby. can't wait to feel you 'round my cock." you choke back a pathetic whine. "you like it? like it when i fuck you with my fingers and talk to you like this?" you nod, pushing yourself further onto his digits. "filthy girl, s'it turn you on when you're fucked out on an old man's fingers?"

"yesㅡ god, yes, please, joel, please, 'm so close." but then it all stops. you whine at the sudden lack of feeling, but you open your eyes and see Joel stand up.

your vision was hazy from all the tears in your eyes, and your heart felt stuck in your throat, but you watched the man discard himself of his clothes andㅡ holy. fucking. shit. all of your fantasies of Joel couldn't prepare you for what was going to happen. he stood there, tall, gruff as he stroked himself. his length was girthy, almost too thick, veiny, with a pinkish, angry tip. he knew he was huge. That's what made it so exciting for him. watching you gawk at his cock, made him feel more powerful over you.

"c'mon, angel, it won't bite...open wide now. widee ㅡ there you go...good little girl." he preaises, sliding his length between your lips. it was hard to adjust, and honestly, your jaw was hurting from the first couple of minutes you had him in your mouth. but the way his lips dripped with quiet moans, 'goodgirls' and 'thats rights', it made you push back the pain. it was bearableㅡ it was worth it. "jesus christ, girl, you look so pretty, mouth full of my cock." the man laughs, pushing his length further down your warm throat that was constricting as you gagged around him. "shitㅡ gonna make me come already." hissing, he pulls out, leaving you gasping for air.

you look up at him, mascara smudged, lips swollen and blushed cheeks stained with tears and spit. "you're so gorgeous like this, baby. my gorgeous angel girl, begging for cock." he sighs, caressing you cheek before his hand slides down to wrap around your neck, squeezing it and making you light-headed. "gonna let me fuck you, darlin'? c'mon, answer."

"y-yes, please fuck m-me, Joel." joel scoffs, placing a little kiss on your forehead. with his other hand, he grabs his shaft and drags the tip along your folds, collecting all the juices that dripped from you. "fuckin' soaked for me, baby." and you hum a little 'only for you.' without stalling, he pushes in just the tip making you yelp as the sting spread through your pussy. you stare him deep in the eyes as he pushes in further, hushing you along the way. it was so bigㅡ too big. but you loved it, you loved that it was all you dreamed about and more. "I know, baby, I know. You're a good girl, you can take it." with that, he pushes in all the way, ripping through you, his precum mixing with your juices that were flowing over his cock. he thrusts in you cunningly, gripping your hips tightly and licking long strips down your neck. all you could do is sit there and take it. take it and make him proudㅡ you were paying him back, though.

"so pretty, angel, so, so pretty and tight 'f me, shitㅡ " joel moans, indulging further into you. your hips crash with his, and you try your best to say quiet as you feel his cock hit so deep, you're sure it reached your stomach. the room spun with you, you could only mutter little 'joels' as he pounded into you. after a few more pumps that familiar feeling was pooling at your core, causing you to tighten around Joel's length, which made him grunt and pull your hips flush to his "that's it, girl. come around my cock, let me feel ya squeezin' me."

you let go. bliss and pleasure take over you as your body contorts under joel, your walls fluttering around his shaft perfectly, eyes rolling to the back of your head. it doesn't take him long reach his orgasm, pumping a few more times into you before he take his cock out and paints your stomach and breasts with white, silky strands.

this all really happened.

After you both come down from your high, you cup his face in your warm palms, your stare tied to his. Joel's eyes were soft, warm, and filled with something you'd never seen beforeㅡ something that made your heart swell even more and realize what just went down between you two. "Should've done that a long time ago," he said with a soft, crooked smile, his thumb brushing against your cheek, still a little out of breath. You laughed lightly, still caught in the moment. "Yeah, you should've." His smile grew, and he leaned in again, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "You know this changes things, right?"

"I know," you whispered, feeling the truth of it all settle into your bones. "I want it to."

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal smut #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel tlou #joel miller fic #joel x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller #dbf!joel #kinktober #the last of us #tlou fanfiction

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brbsoulnomming · 25 days ago

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Heart On Your Sleeve Part 5

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

written for steddiebigbang2024 and belatedly posting here!

This part includes the Russian torture scene, so adding a warning for gore/violence just to be safe!

-----

Eddie comes by Scoops, once Steve gets the job there.

The first time, he laughs at the sailor hat for a minute straight until Steve rolls his eyes and calls back, “I'm taking my lunch!”

“Now?” Robin bitches. “Did you actually get a girl to fall for those ridiculous li-” She cuts off as she comes out of the back room and sees Eddie. “Oh. Huh.”

Eddie flashes a sharp toothed smile at her, and Steve rolls his eyes again and elbows him.

“I'll be back before the actual lunch rush hits this way,” he tells Robin, untying his apron and depositing it to the side of the counter.

To Eddie, he says, “Here, since this brought you so much joy,” and drops the sailor hat onto the top of Eddie's head.

Eddie gives a squawk and squirms around like he's trying to bat him off, though Steve notices he doesn't actually push him away as Steve adjusts the hat to his liking.

“There,” Steve says, shooting Eddie a teasing little grin as he steps back. “You keep that on the whole time, and I'll buy you lunch.”

“A small price to pay for a free meal,” Eddie says solemnly, but his eyes are crinkled a little like they do when he smiles, and he doesn't take the hat off the entire time they eat together.

—

He and Eddie sit out back behind Scoops, passing a cigarette back and forth. It's the end of Steve's shift, and technically he doesn't have to stay anymore, but he's not in a hurry to get home.

Dustin's away at camp, after all.

“Why the hell are you working here?” Eddie asks, sounding like he's been mulling it over for a while.

Steve snorts. “Needed to work somewhere.”

“Okay, fine, but haven't you done the lifeguard thing for like three years?”

Steve - didn't actually expect Eddie to know that, and he shoots him a little smile before he rolls his eyes. “Not a real job, according to my dad. It's just hanging out at the pool all day.”

Eddie scoffs. “Would your dad even know a real job if it bit him?”

“My dad's never really had to work for anything,” Steve mutters. “I didn't get into any of the colleges they wanted me to, so I needed to be taught a lesson. Pretty sure he was hoping it'd humiliate me.”

Eddie tips back, looking him over. “You don't look very humiliated.”

Steve shrugs. “Because I'm not. Yeah, sure, the outfit and the hat are stupid, but work is work. Ice cream makes people happy, I make people happy, it could be worse. Besides, he has no idea what I'm even making here. Every paycheck is a little more I can stash away where he can't touch it.”

Eddie's watching him very closely now, in a way that Steve's never seen before.

“How long have you been doing that?” he asks quietly.

“What, saving money that my dad doesn't know about?” Steve asks.

“Yeah.”

Eddie's face is serious - far more serious than Steve's ever seen him, than he thinks the situation warrants. Steve frowns.

“Since I got my first job, I guess? Anything I ask for from him comes with some kind of string attached, and I got tired of paying for it.”

Eddie's quiet again. “You've gotten in a lot of fights the last couple of years,” he says, slow and careful like he thinks Steve might bolt. “Lot of bruises.”

He clocks on to what Eddie's trying to get at, then, and a rush of relief washes over him as he hurries to set him straight. “Oh, no, my dad's not abusive or anything, just an asshole. He's never hit me.”

Eddie considers that. “Your dad can be an abusive piece of shit without ever hitting you.”

Steve licks his lips, takes his turn watching Eddie a little more closely. “Sounds like you're familiar with it.”

Eddie laughs, sharp and humorless. “Come on, man, you know who my dad is.”

“I know what people say about him,” Steve agrees. “But I've learned not to listen to rumors.”

Eddie flicks the cigarette butt off into the distance.

Steve gets out another one, puts it between his lips to light it. He takes a long drag, then - pulls his heart out of his chest, setting it between them before he passes the cigarette over.

Eddie's eyes drop down to his heart as he takes the cigarette, but this time he doesn't say anything.

Steve still doesn't ask to see his, even though he's tempted.

“You can listen to these ones,” Eddie says after a while. “They're mostly true.”

“You deserve better,” Steve tells him.

He looks over when Eddie doesn't say anything, finding him watching his heart. It's beating strong and steady.

“So do you,” Eddie says without looking up.

They sit in silence for a while longer, until the cigarette is gone.

Then Steve tucks his heart back into his chest and stands up. “Come on, I'll get us lunch.”

Eddie scowls at him. “You bought last time.”

“Yeah, but a conversation like that deserves a burrito bigger than your head, and I've got employee discount,” Steve counters, holding out his hand.

Eddie concedes, accepting his hand up.

—

Steve keeps making up excuses to buy Eddie lunch after that, every time he comes by at the end of an early shift or close to his lunch break on a later shift.

One day he gets them both pizza from Sbarro, and they sit at one of the sticky plastic tables in the food court. It's so small their knees knock together as they devour their slices, but -

But it also means that Steve can tuck his ankle up against Eddie's, hook his foot half around it, and have an excuse if he needs one.

He doesn't need one.

Eddie doesn't move his foot away, but he does shoot wide eyed little looks over at Steve like he's not sure whether this is a joke or not, and -

“Hi,” Steve says, soft and ridiculous and holy shit, he has to have something better than hi.

But apparently hi works, because Eddie ducks his head, looks back up at him with something soft and wary and surprised all at once.

“Hi,” Eddie says back.

And that's -

It's something.

—

Steve gets closer to Robin - their bickering has started to become playful, and even though her teasing's never been mean, now it sounds almost fond. She still gets annoyed when customers watch them work in complete sync and think they're a couple, but now she just rolls her eyes and complains to him later instead of throwing things off by trying to protest it.

It's nice. He thinks he might be winning her over, and it makes the days pass a lot quicker.

—

He doesn't see Eddie for a week after their pizza lunch.

He tries not to think much about it, just tells himself that if he hasn't seen him by the time Dustin comes back from camp, he'll call him.

—

This isn't like any beating he's taken before.

Steve'd thought he was prepared. He was prepared, at least in the beginning. Billy did just as much damage, even if it was in a shorter span of time, and the ache in his ribs and stomach and face is familiar.

He can handle it.

Besides, it doesn't matter how much they hurt him - protecting Robin and Dustin and Erica is more important than anything else.

"Let's take a look at his heart," one of the soldiers says. "See how honest he's really being."

Steve's pretty sure he makes a choked off little guh.

He doesn't want to let them anywhere near his heart.

But on the other hand - he isn't lying as much as they think he is, and maybe that will prove it? They'll have to undo his hands to get him to take it out, and he briefly considers trying to get the drop on them, but he has to concede that probably won't go very well for him.

It's not like they're really asking for his opinion, anyway.

They aren't making any move to untie his hands, either, and Steve's brow scrunches in confusion.

He sees one of them holding what looks like a mix of a gun and a taser. It - honestly, it looks pretty stupid, like a prop in a bad movie, and he wrinkles his nose at it.

They press it up against his ribcage, pull the trigger - and fuck, he jolts back with the force of it.

His chest splits open.

The shock of it makes him numb for a precious few moments, staring down at the gaping hole in his own chest. The pain doesn't hit him until they take his heart out. It feels like it's being carved out of him, ripped from his chest as though he were being mauled by a wild animal, and he has the somewhat hysterical thought that he shouldn't be alive for this.

His heart was torn out of his chest, and somehow it's still beating, erratic and racing.

"Hmm," one of the soldiers says, tilting his heart this way and that. "Feels real."

The soldier squeezes it, and this time Steve screams at the pressure tightening around his heart, making him convulse in his bonds.

The second soldier laughs.

"They're making such good fakes these days," the second soldier says.

The first soldier relaxes his grip, and Steve sucks in ragged gulps of air, too disoriented to really understand what they're saying.

"Much more sophisticated than patches and paint," the first soldier agrees. "What good would a spy be if he showed his real heart?"

"No," Steve protests. "It's real, come on, you can feel it."

There’s no sign of deception from his heart, but it's beating too wildly from the pain to really make a difference.

"We'll see about that," the second soldier says, handing a switchblade to the first.

The first soldier presses the flat of the blade against his heart. "Let's see what's underneath if we shave a little off?"

—

Steve doesn't really remember anything after that. He must have passed out, because the next thing he hears is Robin's voice, and he realizes he's in a different room, tied back to back with her.

His chest aches.

Everything aches, really, but his chest is the worst of it.

Steve looks down, sees himself solid and in one piece again. He might have thought the whole thing was just a pain induced hallucination if it weren't for the unstable beat of his heart. It's pulsing unsteadily, and he feels as though if he even breathes too hard, it might burst into pieces with the next beat.

But he's not alone now.

He's with Robin, and she makes everything better, and even though his heart beats too fast when he thinks of how much he likes her - it's the good kind of too fast, not the kind that makes him think his heart is going to explode.

He is pretty sure that his heart is going to explode, though, that they're probably going to die here. He knows Robin is thinking the same thing - he just knows, like going through Russian secret agent torture together has made them automatically on the same wave length.

They were heading towards being friends before this, he knows, wonders if maybe they could have ever been for real.

It's a shame he doesn't think he'll ever get to find out.

—

Dustin and Erica find them before Steve loses any fingers.

Which is good. He might not be on the basketball team anymore, but he still plays with Lucas sometimes, and he likes all of his fingers attached to his hand and not on the floor of a secret Russian base.

He tells Dustin that as they're escaping from said Russian secret base. Dustin looks a little pale, hugs him tight around the middle, which makes Steve laugh - it should hurt, he thinks, but he doesn't feel a thing.

The only thing he feels is kind of floaty, and the itchy, overheated sensation he always gets when he's had his heart locked inside his chest for too long.

When no one's looking, Steve takes his heart out of his chest.

His stomach turns.

Whatever he's feeling about it seems distant, too far removed for him to be able to react to it, but the physical sensation of his stomach heaving is present and accounted for.

It only barely looks like a heart. The shape of it is hardly visible, more like a double handful of the precut chuck roast he gets to use as stew meat, sluggishly oozing every time it beats.

The thought of putting it back in his chest makes his stomach heave again, but even like this, he knows he can't keep it out in the open.

He rips off the red scarf from his Scoops uniform, wraps it around his heart to hold it together, and ties it off.

There.

Now no one will notice.

This is already written, and my plan is to post one part a day until it's all up here!

-----

Part 6

Taglist (always happy to add more to this if anyone wants): @fairytalesreality @lostonceandneverfound @wheneverfeasible @awkwardgravity1 @theintrovertedintrovert @thewickedkat @ravenfrog @scarlet-malfoy @missmagillicuddy @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @ollyxar @cringe-culture-is-dead-99 @thedragonsaunt @makewavesandwar @ajeff855 @mae-liz @the-fantastical-asexual @jettestar @warlordess @samsoble @persnicketysquares @cryptid-system @my-love-of-books @mydysfunctionallife @dreamercec @holyangelstudentuniverse

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie fic #robin buckley

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itneverendshere · 7 months ago

Text

THE OTHER SIDE OF PARADISE - rafe cameron (+18) - two

request: "a rafe enemies to lovers 🫣 the reader is jjs sister the whole drama before but then she gets left behind on the ship and rafe ends up comforting her and then yea that’s all I got you can do whatever else the rest 😛"

WARNINGS: maybank!reader x sorta canon!rafe; doesn't exactly follow the real plot line but...it does?; am i turning this into a series? maybe.

word count: 6k...

Neither of you ever mentioned that night again, as if it had never happened. It couldn't have happened; it must have been a figment of your overactive imagination.

There was no way in hell you would have let Rafe Cameron have you on top of a dining table, living up to the derogatory "dirty pogue" nickname. You were better than that. You knew better.

Despite that...You found it impossible to look at him for the next forty-eight hours. In fact, facing yourself in the mirror became a challenge, so much so that you refused his help in tending to your wound. Self-sufficiency had long been your norm. Growing up with Luke meant mastering the art of tending to your bruises from a young age.

Initially, there was clearly tension between you and Rafe.

Every time your paths crossed, it dragged you back to that regretful moment—the feeling of his hands, the memory of his presence inside you—but there were bigger things at stake, and so, you pushed the nagging feelings aside, focusing on one thing only: getting out.

You and Rafe didn’t mix, oil and water, two stubborn bastards with heavy emotional baggage. Sometimes it was tricky to work together, but other days, it flowed so easily it gave you whiplash.

In the time that followed, you both worked tirelessly to plan your getaway, meticulously plotting every detail to ensure success and not another round of bullets.

Your job was to sit around and act innocent, while Rafe had to ensure you had a way out and enough money to pay someone off. Avoiding Ward was easy enough since he spent most of his time in Guadalupe.

Rafe scoffed; his arms crossed over his chest as he eyed the small, weather-beaten boat skeptically. "I'm not getting into that piece of shit. No fucking way," he declared, voice dripping with disdain.

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the frustration growing in your chest.

He was so fucking insufferable.

"Oh, so you've got a better suggestion?"

He shot you a glare, but you couldn’t help but notice how his eyes caught the shimmer of the clear night sky, "I do," he retorted, gesturing towards a sleek motorboat moored nearby. "That one looks like it might get us somewhere without sinking halfway."

You followed his gaze, your entire face scrunching up as you took in the sight of the motorboat. It was certainly more modern and well-maintained than the rusty old dinghy you had been eyeing, but something about it made you uneasy.

"Hell no?” you hesitated, chewing on your bottom lip nervously. "It seems a bit...too much. We don't want to draw any unnecessary attention to ourselves."

Rafe rolled his eyes, "C'mon,” he scoffed, "This isn't the time to be playing it safe. We need to get out of here, and that boat is our best chance."

You bit your lip, torn between your instincts and Rafe's seemingly reckless impulsiveness.

On one hand, you didn't want to take any unnecessary risks, but on the other hand, you knew that time was running out and you needed to act fast. Ward was coming back to the island soon enough and if he dragged Rafe away with him…you were a lost cause.

There was no third chance.

“What about the guards?” your voice dropped to a whisper as you glanced around nervously. The last thing you needed was someone overhearing your plans.

“I’ve got it covered,” Your skepticism must have shown on your face because he stepped closer, lowering his voice, “Look, I know you don’t trust me, but I’m not about to let us get caught. I’ve been dealing with Ward’s security my whole life. I know how to slip past them.”

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration, “Fine. But if this goes south, it’s on you.”

“Yeah, yeah, isn’t it always?” he replied, dismissively waving a hand, “Just try not to get shot this time.”

"You think you're so fucking funny, don't you?"

"Keep your voice down."

The sleek motorboat gleamed in the fading light, its potential for escape glinting like a promise of freedom.

As night fell, you both moved with practiced stealth, with a reluctant nod, you followed him towards the sleek motorboat. The docks were eerily quiet, save for the gentle lapping of the waves against the hulls of the boats. Your heart pounded in your chest as you kept a lookout for any sign of the guards.

Rafe moved with the confidence that you envied, quickly untying the boat and preparing it for departure. You glanced around nervously, half-expecting to hear the shout of a guard at any moment. Every shadow seemed like a threat, every noise a potential alarm.

“Hurry up,” you hissed, glancing over your shoulder.

“Calm the fuck down,” Rafe muttered, though he did quicken his pace. “We’re almost ready.”

Your anxiety spiked. This was it. No turning back.

Rafe started the engine, the low rumble sounding like a roar in the silent night. You winced, half-expecting the noise to draw attention. The sound was louder than you expected. But luck seemed to be on your side.

“C’mon,” He whispered, his eyes scanning the area for any sign of trouble, “Get in.”

You climbed aboard, your hands shaking as you settled into the seat.

“Go!” you urged, glancing back at the docks nervously.

Rafe didn’t need to be told twice. The boat lurched forward, cutting through the water with surprising speed. As the island receded into the distance, you felt a little hope. For the first time in months, freedom was within your reach.

As he guided the boat out of the harbor, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

“See? I told you it’d be fine,” Rafe said, a hint of smugness in his voice.

“Just keep your eyes on the water,” you retorted, refusing to give him the satisfaction of being right.

He adjusted the throttle, the boat picking up speed. "Relax, Maybank. Enjoy the ride," he said, his tone dripping with mock concern.

You shot him a withering look, gripping the edge of your seat. "Just focus on getting us out of here in one piece.”

He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, a muscle in his jaw ticking. "You think I don't know what I'm doing?"

"Frankly, I don’t care what you think you know. Just keep us moving.”

Rafe's hands tightened on the wheel, but he said nothing. The silence between you was a common thing, the hum of the engine the only sound cutting through the night. The coastline was a distant memory now, the open water vast and foreboding. You kept scanning the horizon, every wave hiding a potential threat.

"You're acting like we're about to get ambushed by pirates," Rafe finally said, his tone lighter but still edged with that irritation.

"Better safe than sorry," you muttered, refusing to meet his gaze.

Rafe let out a sharp laugh. "Always so paranoid. That's what gets you in trouble."

You whipped your head around to glare at him.

“No, your family got me in trouble. In case you’ve forgotten.”

His face hardened, the easy bravado slipping for just a moment, “Huh, right. ‘Cause your friends are such fucking saints.”

“At least they’re not murder—”

You cut yourself off before you said it, but the damage was done anyways. Rafe's jaw tightened, the muscle there twitching again as he ground his teeth, lips pressed into a thin line. He didn't respond verbally, but the anger you could feel radiating from him was answer enough to you.

He turned his attention back to the horizon, his grip on the wheel tightening until his knuckles were white. The boat's engine roared louder as he increased the speed, the vessel slicing through the water with renewed urgency.

The waves splashed higher, and the night air became colder, but Rafe didn't seem to notice. His focus was absolute. Yeah, he was pissed.

What could you possibly say? Apologize?

There was no way in hell you were apologizing to him. Not after everything his father had put you through. If anyone owed an apology, it was him. And you knew you'd see the world end before Rafe Cameron ever uttered those words.

It was infuriating. There he was taking a step forward, leaving his loyalty to Ward behind and he still refused to show remorse if not between four walls with you. Never out in the open, never too loud.

You sat in silence, each lost in your thoughts, the weight of the past not letting you calm down the way you really wanted to. It was done.

And although you wished things had been differently, they weren’t.

Despite the chill in the air, sweat prickled at the back of your neck, tension coiling in your muscles. The night stretched on, like it was never ending, you hated every minute of it.

After what felt like an eternity, light appeared on the horizon, signaling the approach of dawn. You breathed a sigh, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly.

The worst was over, for now at least.

Rafe glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, “We’re almost there. Keep an eye out for any patrol boats," he instructed, his voice curt and businesslike.

He was all focus still, that calculating side that had always unnerved you.

You nodded, scanning the waters diligently. The further you went, the more the reality of your situation sank in. You were out there, in the middle of nowhere, relying on a Cameron to get you to safety. The irony was almost laughable.

“Where are we heading?" you asked, breaking the silence. Your voice was softer, dulled by the exhaustion.

"We'll head south, find somewhere to lay low for a while. I've got contacts who owe me favors."

“Uh? We’re not going back to The Outer Banks?”

He shook his head, attention fixed on the horizon. “No. Not unless you want to get killed.”

The Outer Banks, once your home, now felt like a trap waiting to snap shut. You should’ve figured Ward would send someone after you the minute he figured you were gone. A loose end.

Shills ran down your body as you remembered your close encounter with death.

"Your contacts won’t sell us out?"

He smirked, though there was no humor in it. "They know better than to cross me. Criminal, remember?”

You sighed, ready to jump into the water if it meant a little space from the unbearable atmosphere. Despite everything, you couldn't ignore the nagging feeling of guilt from what you’d almost said before.

“You know what I meant.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

“Listen,” you began, your voice faltering as you struggled to find the right words. He glanced at you, his expression guarded, but you continued, “I don’t care, okay? Not right now. What matters is that you’re here, not with him.”

Rafe's face softened slightly; the hard edges of his demeanor were momentarily blunted by your words. He looked away, his jaw working as if he were chewing over something in his mind. When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter, more subdued than before.

“If you say so.”

As you drew nearer to the shore, details of the island began to come into focus. Lush greenery blanketed the landscape, punctuated by towering palm trees swaying gently in the breeze. It was oddly like the place you’d been stuck in for months, but this time, there was no sense of dread in you. The boat slowed as Rafe expertly maneuvered it into a small cove, sheltered from prying threats by rocky outcrops and overhanging foliage. With a soft thud, the vessel came to a stop, the engine sputtering into silence.

Once he was done, he stepped onto the water, knees deep as the sandy shore still lay a little ahead.

You blinked in confusion as he turned to you, his arms open wide in a gesture that left you momentarily perplexed. The water lapped gently against the sides of the boat, its surface reflecting the golden hues of the setting sun.

"What are you doing?" you asked, your brow furrowing in bemusement as you eyed his outstretched arms.

“Helping you.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his simple gesture of assistance. It took a moment for his words to register, and when they did, a faint blush tinged your cheeks at your slowness.

In all fairness, you weren’t used to this side of Rafe. You’d only seen it a few times and it was…something else entirely.

“Right.”

As Rafe's hand brushed against your waist while helping you out of the boat, your skin prickled in goosebumps. Traitor.

You quickly brushed off the sensation, chalking it up to nerves from the situation. With a grateful nod, you stepped onto the sandy shore, feeling the warm grains shift beneath your feet. The island stretched out before you, its landscape dotted with lush vegetation and towering trees. It was larger than you had expected, much bigger than Ward’s private hell.

"We should find a place to sleep,” you said, turning to Rafe as you scanned the horizon for any signs of civilization.

He nodded in agreement, his gaze following yours as he surveyed the landscape. "Let's head towards the center of the island. There should be some motels.”

With a shared nod, you set off along the sandy shore, the waves crashing against the beach providing a rhythmic backdrop to your footsteps.

As you walked, an uneasy feeling crept over you, the hairs on the back of your neck prickling, maybe it was just the paranoia that had become like second nature to you over the past year.

After a while, you noticed a winding path leading into the dense foliage of the island's interior. Without a word, you and Rafe followed it, venturing deeper into the heart of the island.

The sounds of civilization faded, replaced by the rustling of leaves and the chirping of birds.

Finally, after what felt like hours of walking, you emerged into a clearing. Before you stood a beat up motel, its faded paint and weather-beaten facade blending seamlessly into the surrounding landscape.

"This should do," you said, nodding towards the building, "I guess."

“Yeah. Good for a night or two, my contact won’t be here till then.”

As you entered the motel lobby, the air was thick with the scent of stale cigarettes and cheap air freshener. Rafe followed closely behind you, his expression unreadable as he glanced around the dimly lit room. You approached the front desk, where a bored-looking clerk sat slouched behind the counter, flipping through a magazine with half-hearted interest.

"Hi there," Rafe said, flashing a charming smile as he leaned casually against the counter. "My wife and I are looking for a room for the night."

His what?

Your eyes widened in surprise, but you quickly hid your reaction, playing along with his impromptu act. It was obvious it wasn't the first time Rafe had pulled a stunt like this, and you had to admit, he had a talent for getting what he wanted.

To pretend and lie his way out.

The clerk glanced up from his magazine, peeking over the two of you with mild curiosity. "Sure thing," he said, his tone disinterested. "How many nights?"

"One for now," Rafe replied smoothly, reaching into his pocket to produce a wad of cash that you hadn't even realized he had. It was a substantial amount, more than enough to cover the cost of survival for at least two weeks.

The clerk took the cash without comment, handing Rafe a key with a grunt of acknowledgment.

"Room 203," he said, gesturing towards a staircase in the corner of the lobby. "Upstairs, second door on the left."

"Thanks," Rafe said, pocketing the key with a nod of gratitude. He turned to you; his expression unreadable. "Let’s go, baby.”

Baby?

He must've been out of his goddamn mind. His hand found yours, rough fingers intertwining with yours in a gesture that felt oddly intimate. You glanced at him, confused, but he simply squeezed your hand reassuringly, focused on the hallway.

When you reached the door to room, he released your hand with a reluctant sigh. That always happened with him, there was always something new you couldn’t pinpoint, but eventually got used to. The charming, panty-dropping posture was gone in an instant, replaced by his usual brooding demeanor as he unlocked the door and pushed it open, revealing a modest but comfortable-looking room.

“After you.”

You swallowed your surprise at his manners and stepped into the room, grateful for the relative privacy it offered. Rafe followed close behind, closing the door behind him with a soft click. It was sparsely furnished, with a queen-sized bed dominating the space and a small television mounted on the wall opposite. A worn armchair sat in the corner, and a narrow window offered a glimpse of the night sky outside.

"It’s a fucking dump,” Rafe said, his tone light but with an underlying note of exhaustion. "But it'll do for now."

You sank onto the edge of the bed, resting the mattress. “Better than my room back home.”

“Really?”

"Don't act so surprised. We're not exactly living in luxury over there."

You could see the realization click on Rafe's face as if he’d forgotten your background, “Didn’t think it was that bad for you.”

"Yeah, well, appearances can be deceiving," you replied, "But let's save up the pity for later. I'm more interested in asking you why the fuck you got just one room with one bed."

“I can sleep on the floor, relaaax.”

You shot him a skeptical look, eyebrow raised in disbelief. "Seriously? You'd actually sleep on the floor?"

He shrugged, "Why not? It's not like I haven't slept in worse places."

You didn’t want to delve into that.

Instead, you only stared at him for a moment, searching for any hint of insincerity in his expression. To your surprise, you found none.

Moments like these reminded you that he was human, and you hated it.

“Okay.”

With a weary sigh, you rose from the bed and began to remove your shoes, the events of the day finally catching up with you. Exhaustion settled into your bones, dragging you down like an unbearable weight.

Rafe watched you for a moment before turning away to rummage through spare sheets and pillows, preparing a makeshift bed. There was no time to change clothes; you had left the little you had behind.

As you slipped beneath the covers and closed your eyes, you couldn't ignore the possibility that this was only the calm before the storm. It felt too easy.

You heard the rustle of sheets as he settled onto the floor, making himself as comfortable as possible, “Don’t fucking snore, Cameron.”

Rafe chuckled softly, the rare sound carrying through the darkness of the room. "Wouldn't dream of it, Maybank.”

Hours later, you woke suddenly, your heart pounding in your chest, the remnants of a nightmare still clinging to the edges of your consciousness.

For a moment, you lay there in the darkness, disoriented and trying to make sense of your surroundings. Then, you heard it—a low, murmured voice coming from the other side of the room. Turning towards the source of the sound, you saw Rafe lying on the makeshift bed on the floor, his face twisted in a grimace of pain.

He was tossing and turning restlessly, his brow furrowed as he muttered incomprehensible words under his breath. The sight of him trapped in a nightmare weirdly stirred something protective within you. Despite everything, despite the walls he put up, you didn’t like to see him in pain. It felt so familiar, and for a second you were back home, in your room, rocking yourself back and forth after waking up in hysterical screams.

Moving quietly, you slipped out of bed and crossed the room to kneel beside him. Gently, you reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder, giving him a gentle shake.

"Rafe," you whispered softly, trying to rouse him from his slumber. "Hey, wake up."

In the next second, you were gasping for breath as Rafe's hands closed around your throat in a vice-like grip. Shock and fear nearly knocked you out instantly but your body instinctively started against his hold as you struggled to break free.

Muscle memory and all.

"R-Rafe!" you gasped, your voice coming out in a strangled whisper as you clawed at his hands, desperate for him to let go. But he was so lost in the grip of his nightmare, his grip unyielding as he continued to squeeze, his eyes wide and unseeing.

Panic took over you as the world started to blur around the edges, darkness creeping into your vision while your lungs burned for air. Frantically, you tried to call out to him again, to wake him from whatever hellish nightmare held him in its grasp, but your voice was little more than a choked rasp.

“Rafe!"

Then, as suddenly as it began, the pressure around your throat disappeared, leaving you gasping and wheezing for breath as you collapsed against the bed.

Blinking away the tears that pricked at your eyes, you looked up to see him kneeling beside you, his hands shaking as he stared at you with wide, horrified eyes.

"Fuck, fuck," he whispered, his voice trembling, "Shit, shit. I didn't mean to—I didn't know—"

His words were choked off by a strangled sob as he buried his face in his hands, his entire body shaking with the force of his sobs.

It was a startling thing to witness , seeing the usually composed and confident Rafe Cameron reduced to this, his vulnerability laid bare for you to see. For a moment, you were frozen, unsure of what to do or say.

But then, instinct kicked in again,and you reached out to him, wrapping your arms around him.

He practically dragged you into his lap, one hand wrapped around your waist and the other tangled in your hair. He only shook his head, his sobs growing louder as he buried his face where your neck and shoulder met, his entire body wracked with tremors. All you could do was hold him close, offering whatever comfort you could.

Eventually, his sobs began to subside, his breathing evening out as he clung to you like a lifeline.

You held him close, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head, “Better?”

Rafe nodded against your shoulder; his breathing still ragged but gradually steadying. "Yeah," he murmured, his voice barely audible above the soft sound of your heartbeat. "Yeah, I think so."

You remained silent, holding him close as he slowly calmed down. The weight of his body against yours was oddly comforting, grounding you and pushing back the memories of his violent outburst just moments before.

After a while, Rafe pulled away slightly, his eyes red-rimmed but clear as he looked up at you "I didn't mean to hurt—”

You reached out and brushed a stray lock of his blonde hair from his sweaty forehead.

“I know," you whispered softly, “It was just a nightmare. I have them too.”

You didn’t know why you offered him that solace.

"You do?"

You nodded, though you knew he couldn't see it in the dim light.

"Yeah," you admitted, "They’re pretty bad too.”

There was a brief pause, filled only with the sound of your quiet breathing and the distant hum of the night outside.

Then, Rafe spoke again, "What do you dream about?"

You hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. But something in Rafe's earnest expression told you to be honest, to let down your guard just this once,

“Luke. You?”

Rafe's immediate reaction was defensive, hands pulling away from your body, “Doesn't matter."

You felt stupid for asking him such a personal thing.

He wasn't like you.

“Do you want to sleep in bed with me? It might be better than the floor."

"I'm fine on the floor. Don't worry about me."

But you weren't about to let him off the hook that easily.

With a sigh, you reached out and gently grasped his arm, turning him to face you again, "Rafe," you said, voice borderline pleading, “Just sleep on the bed. Okay?"

For a moment, he hesitated, his gaze flickering between you and the bed, but with a reluctant sigh, he nodded.

"Okay, okay," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "Fine."

With that, he rose from the floor and cautiously joined you on the bed. You shifted slightly to make room for him, and as he settled beside you.

“Don’t snore.”

“Not more than you do.”

The rest of the night passed in a blur of fitful sleep and restless dreams, but somehow, with Rafe by your side, it felt bearable.

When morning finally came, you awoke to find he was already gone, his side of the bed cold, no traces of his presence, and a messy scribbled note left behind on the bedside table.

"Picking up food and clothes, brb. Don't open the door."

You felt relieved that he hadn't disappeared without a word and was instead putting in the effort to rely on you.

Deep down, you knew he had left as soon as he woke up, probably sprinting out of the room to avoid waking you and having any awkward confrontations about last night. It was going to be a long day, especially if he was determined to hide his emotions. You knew the old, bad Rafe Cameron would make a reappearance.

You got up from the bed and stretched. You needed a shower. You stank. It had been two days since you had washed yourself properly, and the thought of having gone to sleep in such a state made you want to hurl.

You’d have to ask for another set of fresh sheets if you stayed another night.

As you stepped into the bathroom, the warm water cascading over your skin felt like a dream, washing away the previous night. The steam filled the small space, enveloping you like a comforting embrace as you took your time, allowing the water to ease the knots of stress from your muscles. You focused on washing away the dirt and grime, letting the familiar routine ground you.

Yet, even as you lathered soap onto your skin, your mind couldn't help but drift back to Rafe, to the way he had clung to you in the darkness.

Another reminder that despite his tough exterior, he was just as human as any of you, with fears and insecurities that ran deep. And it terrified you, because up until last month Rafe Cameron was not capable of emotions to you, only violence.

You stepped out of the shower, the steam still lingering in the air and with a towel wrapped snugly around your body, you stepped back into the main room of the motel, feeling refreshed.

“Huh, good morning to you too.”

You nearly jumped out of your skin, “Fuck!”

Rafe stood there, leaning against the doorway, something similar to a playful smirk at the corners of his lips as he watched your startled reaction.

His arms were laden with bags of groceries and a few articles of clothing.

"Didn't mean to scare you. Just wanted to make sure you were alive in there."

You stared at him incredulously, “Turn around!”

He scoffed, walking into the room as he closed the door with his foot, “Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

He said it so casually, it irked you. As if you two hadn’t been purposely ignoring that night ever happened. You shot him a withering glare, snatching a towel from the nearby chair and aiming at his face, full force.

"That's not the point, Cameron," you grumbled, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment, “And you didn’t see shit. I was dressed.”

Rafe raised an eyebrow, catching the towel with ease before tossing it back to you "What's the matter, Maybank? You shy all of a sudden?"

“Will you shut up?”

He held up his hands in mock surrender, his grin widening as he leaned against the nearest wall.

There was no point in getting into a pointless argument with him, especially not when you had more important things to worry about. Instead, you focused on drying yourself off and getting dressed in the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind you.

As you emerged again, fully dressed and composed, Rafe had already begun unpacking the bags of groceries, laying out an assortment of food on the small table in the corner of the room.

The sight of the makeshift spread made your stomach growl in anticipation, reminding you just how long it had been since your last meal.

“Hungry?” Rafe asked, glancing up from where he was arranging the food.

You nodded eagerly, making your way over to the table and helping yourself to a plate of fruit and plain toast.

As you ate, Rafe filled you in on his plans for the day. It was strange, hearing him talk so casually, without insults, without fear, or threats. For so long, you had seen him as nothing more than a spoiled, entitled rich kid, content to go through life on his family’s wealth and influence.

But ever since that night, you couldn't help but feel a newfound sense of respect for him. He wasn’t Ward.

When he finished speaking, you glanced up from your plate, “Sounds like a plan. Is your contact here, yet?”

“Nah, only tomorrow.”

“Great. So, we’re on our own for now?”

“Yeah, you and me, Pretty Maybank.”

"Hey," you began, your tone light as you tried to sound casual, "I've been curious—why do you call me 'Pretty Maybank'? Is there a story behind it?"

Rafe's gaze flicked up from where he was picking at his food. He seemed taken aback by your question as if he hadn't expected you to bring it up.

He shrugged, "I don't know," he admitted his voice casual but tinged with a hint of embarrassment. "Just seemed fitting, I guess."

You raised an eyebrow, unconvinced, "Fitting? How so?"

Rafe hesitated, elbows dropping to the table as he searched for the right words. "I don't know," he repeated, his voice softer this time. "You just...are pretty, Maybank, everyone knows that.”

You felt like there was more to the story.

“Oh.”

He leaned back, now sat in the old chair, “Might start calling you snoring Maybank though.”

Your lips twitched, fighting back a smile, “You’re not funny. At all.”

“Sure.”

You tilted your head, studying him intently. He looked like a completely different person from last night, “Do you feel any better?”

“About what?” He feigned innocence, avoiding your gaze, as his fingers started tapping nervously on the table. You knew what that meant.

You leaned forward as you reached out to touch his hand gently. “Uh—Y'know, last night, your nightmare.”

“Don’t,” Rafe's abrupt change in demeanor catched you off guard, his walls shooting up in an instant, his tone laced with defensiveness.

You straightened up as you withdrew your hand, a wall of your own rising to match his.

"It’s not important," he snapped,"Just drop it, okay?"

You recoiled at his harsh tone, the way he spoke down at you making you want to slap him across the room. It was clear that he wasn’t in the mood to talk about whatever demons haunted him in the night, and you knew better than to push him when he was like this.

But you were feeling inspired.

“Why do you always do that?” You blurted out, frustration taking over your mouth.

You needed some sense of security around him, and every single time you were close to getting it, he backed out.

He stood up straight, rolled his shoulders back, and narrowed his eyes at you “Not doing anything.”

"You always shut me out," You continued, words coming out in a rush as you struggled to articulate your feelings. "Every time. You say a few words, and then bamb, gone. We’re not friends, that’s fine. But I need to know you’re someone I can rely on, okay? You can’t be doing this. One moment you’re all trusting and the other…I don’t even know what the fuck you are. You can say no nicely, you don’t need to act like a dick.”

Rafe's jaw clenched, his expression turning steely as he locked onto your gaze, "I don’t want to be your fucking friend, Maybank," he retorted,"I'm protecting myself. And if you can't handle that, then maybe you're the one who needs to reevaluate things."

The words stung like a slap to the face.

You felt the color drain from your face.

"Protecting yourself?" you shot back, your voice rising with each word. "From what, exactly? Me?"

He didn’t move, didn’t so much as toss a glance your way as he responded, “Keep your voice down.”

You shook your head, standing up from your seat. He'd said the same exact thing before you got on the boat and you were tired of being pushed aside like a toy.

“No, I fucking won’t. You’re the one who punched me on that ship, your guards were the ones who shot me, your father is the one who wants me dead,” your lips quirked in a small, humorless smile, “And you want to talk about protecting yourself?”

Rafe felt himself flinch, noting how his brows seemed to furrow ever-so-slightly. There was a feeling in your stomach that you couldn’t make out yet, but it was heavy and made you antsy.

"You think I don't know that?" he growled, “You think I don't carry that guilt with me every single day?"

His words caught you off guard, the raw emotion in his voice sending a shiver down your spine.

Rafe ran a hand through his hair, frustration etched into every line of his face.

"You have no idea what it's like. To carry that weight, to know that everything you touch turns to shit.” His voice was probing, his eyes scanning your face with a scrutiny that made you want to run out the door. “And you—Shit, you’re just searching for some confirmation that I am as horrible as everyone’s made me out to be. Newsflash, I am."

You let out a groan, the sound scraping against your throat. "I’m trying to help you! Are you stupid? Oh my god.”

"I don't need your help!" he snapped, standing taller than you, "I don't need anyone's help. I've been doing just fine on my own."

You stepped closer to him, pushing against his chest with your finger, "Fine? Is that what you call it? Living on the run, constantly looking over your shoulder, never knowing who you can trust? That's not fine, Rafe. That's not living."

His hand shot out, gripping your wrist tightly, “I don’t know how to live. I know how to serve, that’s it.” His grip on your wrist tightened as if he was trying to anchor himself, "I just...I can't."

Can't trust you, you think that's what he wanted to say.

“Right,” You swallowed, finding the carpet of the room suddenly all too interesting, “Good enough to fuck, not to trust.”

His grip loosened slightly, his hand falling away from your wrist as if burned, “I never said that.”

“You don’t have to. Dirty pogue, remember?”

His breathing mirrored your own, both erratic, leaning in closer, breath hot against your skin as his nose brushed against yours, “You think I’d risk my life for you if I believed that?”

“I don’t know. Would you?”

“You have no idea," he breathed, “Do you?”

"I don't understand you."

"Neither do I."

Without another word, he closed the distance between you in a single fluid motion. His hands found their way to your face, fingers tangling in your hair as he deepened the kiss. His touch seemed to tingle between tenderness and roughness, with soft, gentle kisses blending seamlessly with fervent, desperate ones, as if he was unable to choose between cherishing the moment and giving in to his desires completely.

You melted into him, your body responding instinctively to his touch. It felt different from the first time you kissed. Less violent, less primal, more…intimate. Like he was trying to convey everything he couldn't put into words, everything he had been keeping bottled up inside, and you welcomed it.

He pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours.

“You can’t keep kissing me to avoid questions.”

"I know," he murmured, "It's just easier than talking."

You sighed, your hand coming up to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing lightly against his stubbled jawline, "It's wrong."

He closed his eyes, his breath hitching slightly at your words. For a moment, you thought he might pull away again, and retreat into his shell. But then, to your surprise, he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against yours in a feather-light kiss.

"I know," he murmured against your lips,"But for now, can we just...be?"

You nodded, "Yeah," you whispered, "For now, we can just...be."

Neither of you knew what you were doing nor the consequences to come.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x you #rafe x pogue!reader #rafe x Maybank!reader #rafe cameron x maybank!reader #rafe cameron angst #rafe angst #rafe fic #rafe x reader #rafe cameron fluff

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canmom · 8 months ago

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So a little over a month ago I was reached out to by @peterkats, a gay refugee currently living in a camp with a small group of other gay and trans refugees.

Peter has, to put it mildly, had a fucking time of it. In his home country, Uganda, his partner was murdered for being trans. He stayed for some time in Kakuma refugee camp in Kenya with a group of gay and trans people (pictured above), but violence from police forced them to move, and they're currently in a refugee camp run by the UNHCR. (I've been asked not to explicitly name the country but you can probably figure it out.)

Unfortunately this has not in any way been a reprieve. They've managed to flee right into an impending famine, and if that's not enough, they're still facing violence from police and other refugees, and general indifference from the UNHCR medical staff - who are also facing supply shortages. But it's not completely hopeless. When Peter contacted me, he needed money for food - I sent him some via an intermediary and he was able to get quite a bit (the exchange rate seems to be favourable). With help, things can be quite different.

We've stayed in touch since then, talking about our respective lives, the lgbtq situation in different countries, even videogames and music. He's a really sweet guy, despite it all still trying to find a place he can live free. For real, I would not survive any of this shit.

Recently a couple of people in Peter's group have caught malaria. They are currently sleeping on bare mats without mosquito nets. There seems to be some confusion about the exchange rates but as far as I have been able to gather, about €150 (~20,000ssp) gets a mattress and €10(~1000ssp) a malaria net. The UNHCR have not been able to provide any medication except paracetamol, and it's raining which promotes mosquito activity, so this is kind of an emergency.

I would very much prefer if the new friend I've made doesn't die of starvation or malaria. Unfortunately, I do not have the money to support Peter and his group alone. I've sent him money for one mattress (via PayPal for expediency, it won't show up on GFM), and I would be immensely grateful if you would be able to contribute a bit to getting them another (which would be just about enough to keep six people safe from mosquitoes if sleeping three to a mattress).

Beyond that, these guys are prohibited from working so they would definitely benefit from food money. And if anyone has an idea for a long term plan to get them somewhere safer where they're less likely to get bashed, I am sure Peter would appreciate hearing about it. We talked a bit about the UK asylum process but getting everyone here would be very difficult (passports, flights etc.).

But still like, I can only do so much on my own, and I want to give these guys a fighting chance. So if you could pass this around and donate if you can spare a bit? I'd be insanely grateful.

#signal boost #lgbt #gay #refugee support

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nadinescholtes · 4 days ago

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Here is Laia from the new dimension on Eclipse and Puppet Show. Because Sunlight mentioned that he only likes men, she will become Eclipse's partner. This dimension is not a fully genderswap, so Laia stays a woman. And she doesn't have the strength update, she has normal animatronic like strength.

Story:

Laia was the mascot of the candy shop Sugarcoat, but when the old owner AND his wife died, the son didn't want to take over the shop and planed to get the shop demolished and build something else. He was also planing to decommission Laia, because this one hates animatronics. Laia heard this when the son was on the phone and with broken heart she planed her escape. She was very scared, she wanted to live.

The shop didn't close right away it was open for a few months so Laia had some time. But the son was starting to get violent and hurt Laia almost every day and she didn't dare to defend herself. Every other day she stole some money from the cash register and hid it in her room. And then she prepared her outfit to hide her body to look like a tall human woman (if you don't take a closer look).

Even though she had many clothes, she had very few to choose from because they couldn't have the Sugarcoat logo on them and needed to look somewhat normal.

She packed a backpack with the money, a change of clothes, and her portable power bank for an extra 8 hours of electricity (which is much easier to charge than herself directly). Charging cables and her little screwdriver kit just in case and a fuzzy blanket for comfort.

She couldn't take her laptop with games and movies with her in case of tracking. She doesn't have a tracking device built into her, because she was at the shop all the time anyway.

Her outfit: pants and a shirt, a jacket, her Halloween boots, gloves, and a bandana. In her backpack was her outfit like the one from SAMS.

And when she was ready, she escaped the shop at night. It wasn't easy to stay hidden. It was rare for her to find a safe place to charge, so she had to charge her portable power bank where she could (like McDonald's or other) and then plug it in herself to charge hidden in her jacket. She looked like a tall, homeless woman who was resting on a bench or something.

One night a group of people tried to attack and rob her, but she escaped and the next morning she found the building Freddy Fazbear's Mega Pizzaplex. She snuck in, disguised as a tall woman under many people, and went unnoticed. She found her way in parts and service and hid there. She could rest and charge without being attacked for two weeks.

Poor Laia, she was on the run for 2 months it took a toll on her, she was so tired and scared. She found a crowbar and kept it close in case she needed to defend herself. She didn't have a plan for what to do in the future, all she knew was to survive.

And one day Eclipse found her, he first thought she was a tall human woman intruder but saw very fast that she was an animatronic, but didn't see her face. Laia was very scared, kept saying that Eclipse would not take her back to the shop and not to come any closer, and was ready to swing the crowbar if he did come closer.

Eclipse was confused and irritated, asking questions but Laia slipped out the door of parts and service looking for a new hiding spot. Clips didn't run after her, because he was busy and is not in the mood for this. But he kept an eye out when he left parts and service.

Days after he began researching about missing animatronics, but couldn't find anything. But he saw the news that Sugarcoat closed and saw pictures of Laia when she was working there. He recognizes her eyes.

He went to search the whole plex and found her somewhere in the basement sitting in the corner. When she saw him she got scared again, holding the crowbar up. Clips tried this time to calm her down, he was bad at it but it worked. He just wanted to know why she was there. She hesitated but then told him everything that happened in the shop and in the streets.

He said he would not tell everyone, not to help her but because he didn't care (yeah sure buddy, you are nice, deal with it!). He said she could stay there until he figured something out. He warned her if she hurt anyone or caused trouble, he would kick her out.

After days he kept checking on her and having some small talk. He brings her stuff to keep her occupied. He tried bringing her candy from the daycare (because mascot of the candy shop), but she hates candy now, so he brought her some chips. The ghost kids found her and started visiting her too and then FC found her and then the whole group knew about her.

Within time she befriended everyone and Eclipse hacked into Fazbear's system and registered Laia as an official Fazbear animatronic (the thing he did when he, Foxy, FC, and Puppet moved in). Her job was to be at the cash register at the theater, so Clips could leave to do other things. And because those two hung out a lot at the theater together, they grew close.

#art #sun and moon show #laia cotton #sams #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #the lunar and earth show #eclipse and puppet show #eaps #I'm bad at writing fanfictions #but it's a story #add comic idea on my long list

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koiiiji · 8 months ago

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being in big deals from beginning with Sinu, but leaving with Samuel after

pairing ; samuel seo x reader x jake kim

tw ; polyamorous, mfm, possessive! samuel

author note ; my first time writing for lookism and for this two, also im on chapter 343 only, so if something not accurate enough im sorry!! ALSO celebrating 400 followers!! and even tho ask box is closed, i still want to do something nice for you, so if you want you can leave your requests for SHMOL sketches under, i will do it super short and put it in one post!! lookism and windbreaker💋✨💐🤸🏼‍♀️

author note 2 ; not proofed, i wrote it after work with one eye open, so i just throw it to chat gpt to check any mistakes, if you find any you know who you can judge😤🫸🏻

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⋆𐙚₊˚ you have been with big deals even before Jake and Samuel joined, which means you were more close with Sinu, who was like a older brother figure for you

⋆𐙚₊˚ you always were good with calculating and make predictions so you literally was the reason why big deals didn’t have any debts to any other gangs or companies

⋆𐙚₊˚ when Jake and Samuel joined big deals they firstly didn't pay too much attention, just another girl spinning around Sinu, nothing new

⋆𐙚₊˚ but then they started to notice that you always appears at every meeting, even if it were just for big deal, not including girls who work on their street, always whispering something on Sinu ear and checking some papers

⋆𐙚₊˚ it was slow burn in beginning, they payed you more attention on meetings, started more small talks time to time, as soon as they caught that you are actual part of big deals. also, later they learned that you actually liked Sinu as older brother, and that was the moment when they start... acting…

⋆𐙚₊˚ of course you had your small moments together before. like you accidentally fall asleep on Jake’s shoulder when everybody celebrated another holiday, or when you asked both of them to show you some actions, - in case if you will be alone on the street, so you can protect yourself - and seemed that Samuel got a little carried away and pushed you too hard, but catching you by your wrist just moment before your head was about to hit the ground

⋆𐙚₊˚ there were always that moments between three of you

⋆𐙚₊˚ but first one who started to show off were Samuel

⋆𐙚₊˚ he already were jealous over the fact that Sinu choosed Jake as his favourite one, so he can’t let Jake to have yours attention as well. later it will be worse, when he will learn who Jake’s father was

⋆𐙚₊˚ Samuel would always flirt with you making it crystally clear that he likes you, and you wouldn't even notice it because of amount of work for big deals and of homework you still had in school

⋆𐙚₊˚ and when Samuel brutally flirts with you, trying to get your attention, Jake would snort, turning his eyes somewhere else, trying to ignore it and telling Jerry to "stop say stupid stuff like this" when he, once again tried to push his boss to admit his feelings towards you

⋆𐙚₊˚ for Jake it's complicating because he see how Samuel likes you, so he doesn’t want to ruin everything even tho he himself had so many feelings towards you

⋆𐙚₊˚ and Jake waited for too long...

⋆𐙚₊˚ when Samuel took leading position in big deals you were forced to stay by leader side to help him earn as much money as possible to pay to big four, but when Samuel left big deals for workers he asked you to go with him

⋆𐙚₊˚ Samuel was far from gentle man, but when his huge arms hugged your shoulders from behind, softly murmuring into your ear to come with him in new gang, to join him and stay by his side, offering you simply better life, where you won't need to calculate how to save more money until next month, where you will be able to buy expensive clothes, where you can offer yourself jut... more... it was hard to resist to Samuel espesially when you lived your whole life expecting how to safe money to the next month and economize as much as you can

⋆𐙚₊˚ so thats how you left big deals with Samuel, still with heavy heart for Sinu and big deals in general

⋆𐙚₊˚ Jake was feral when Jerry told him that. in his head it was more like Samuel forced you. oh, Jake were fully aware that Samuel were able to use power over girls, and Jake blamed himself for the fact that you had to leave the big deals

⋆𐙚₊˚ when you and Samuel become part of workers, he won’t let you go far away from him. you would be his personal assistant and manager. everything but always by his side. you always. by his side. always. Samuel even went that far that he rent big apartments for both of you, of course with separate rooms, you still didn’t accept his feelings and were naive about what kind of emotion you rise in him

⋆𐙚₊˚ Jake tried to contact you few times but, oh wow, what a surprise, Samuel always were the one to pick up the phone, telling him to leave you alone

⋆𐙚₊˚ to say less Jake felt terrible back then, things that happened to Sinu, Gun Park and his big four gangs, praises about money and the heir at his place, big deals, everything at one time…

⋆𐙚₊˚ and then prison… Jake felt like biggest loser on this planet

⋆𐙚₊˚ and he would never wish you to see all horrors of this place, but here you are sitting on the other side of safety glass, looking too beautiful to place like this, too pretty in your fitted white shirt and pleated skirt. Jerry probably yanked you right out of the office. another self note - to chastise Jerry next time for bringing you to place like this

⋆𐙚₊˚ “Jake… im sorry, i had no idea what happened to you” you murmured softly into the receiver of the phone connecting the two sides. “Samuel never said anything about that… I was shocked when Jerry just caught me near office and crammed me in the car”

⋆𐙚₊˚ after that day, you came to Jake more often, slipping away from Samuel under the pretext that you wanted to meet an old friend from school and he didn't need to attend girls' gatherings

⋆𐙚₊˚ when Jake finally got out of prison, one of the first things that he did was ask you to eat ramen together. you told him everything about your new life, that now you live with Samuel and he takes care about everything, starting with payments for apartments, finishing with fuel for car, as he always ready to ride you to any part of city

⋆𐙚₊˚ Jake felt feral when you told him whole story.

⋆𐙚₊˚ not only that bastard not tell you what happened to Jake, but he also controlled the calls and forced you to live with him. Jake knew what Samuel's feelings were for you, even if you perceived his care and relationship as friendly or brotherly, Jake still guessed what was behind it. but he never imagined that his friend would get to the point where he would keep you with him 24/7 and secretly control your phone calls from anybody from big deals

⋆𐙚₊˚ after that meeting Jake knew that he can’t offer you to stay at his small room he rent, even if he really wanted you to stay more by his side. he didn't tell you about his guesses about Samuel, you don't have to worry, yet you were safer with him than with Jake now. the only thing he did before sending you home in a taxi was hug you so tightly - tightly, it seems that his hands were a little lower than he should have allowed himself, and his hot breath was a little off when his lips were too close to your neck.

⋆𐙚₊˚ in the end, Jake pushed your hair off your forehead, and pressed his lips firmly to your forehead, shut his eyes and quietly promised himself to deal with Samuel later

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#[ ~ koi.talks🗣]#lookism #lookism imagines #lookism headcanons #lookism x reader #lookism webtoon #lookism manhwa #lookism thoughts #jake kim #samuel seo #jake kim x reader #jake kim x reader x samuel seo #samuel seo headcanons #lookism samuel #lookism jake #samuel seo x reader

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luv-gukkie · 8 months ago

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★j𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞 ★

pairing: yandere! min yoongi x f. reader

genre: fluff? || smut || non-idol au || yandere

summary: after a couple of months of just staring at the same four walls, you realize you do love yoongi as much as he loves you, or maybe you’re just trying to survive.

word count: +2.1k

tags/warnings: yoongi kidnaps reader, unprotected sex, yoongi is delusional asf...(a ‘bit’ crazy in the head), pregnancy, murder(s), stockholm syndrome, mentions of drugging, unconsensual touching, dom! yoongi, sub!reader, stalking, reader starts going crazy lowkey

notes: this is more like a small drabble for yoongi :) and its kinda written to show that the reader is losing her mind, sorry if it’s confusing!

༻❤︎︎ ★ ★ ❤︎︎༺

min yoongi was a man of a few words. he liked to relax his mind with his own devices; never one to say much with other people, even to himself. he was an introvert from the very start. his past relationships were always left in pieces; left with girls in tears while munching on tubs of ice cream left and right from such a lousy boyfriend who never cared about them. how he couldn't save their relationship from ruins, leaving it to dissolve with no worries at all for the future of what they could be. if he's honest, yoongi doesn't even know (or care to) how he managed to get women to go out with him. what he thought was just a couple of hookups was actually a relationship to some of his 'girlfriends'. maybe, he just couldn't understand women or maybe, just maybe, he was a sleazy ass who preferred to be by himself.

but, yoongi preferred to say that he loved his alone time more and wasn't prepared for a full-time relationship. the peace that he had built within his mind was enough for him. yoongi didn't really need anything else around him except for money, which was his income from working a boring office job from nine to five; monday to friday with decaf coffee in his hands daily and blue light glasses to protect him from the screen of his desktop.

the constant noise of the people around him were just annoying crowds that he couldn't handle. that was until he landed his eyes on you. it's a day he clearly remembers from sunrise to dawn. how could he ever forget seeing such a pretty face?

it was just his luck that his apartment was far from the city. one word could describe his apartment: perfect. the land was extremely quiet since no one else lived around. the only exceptional noise that would interrupt the silence would be the animals: the deers that would constantly communicate with the others, bunnies hopping around, hummingbirds that chirp with soft ends, or the baby opossums that would sneeze to get their parents' attention. yoongi's house had more than enough of love. he lived for it. however, it never hurts to add more to a loving house, especially when he was missing someone by his side. yoongi couldn't believe his luck on how this apartment was so excluded from the world; from the hands of society. it's exactly what he needed when he wanted to play his guitar with no one knocking on his door to disturb him. or when he wanted to listen to his music out loud, or to keep you safe in his home. its like it was meant to hide someone inside it, and the best part is that no one would ever know. no person can search somewhere they don't know exist. in other words, you were meant to be his.

the second you were inside, yoongi had basically erased your existence from earth. your missing poster left on wooden poles, shops, and shown on the news. and yet, not a single trace of you was found; questions about your appearance went unanswered. everyone was clueless on what could've happened to you. your disappearance was a complete mystery to everyone: where had you gone?

are you still alive?

it was uncomfortable to wake up. your head was pounding and the dizziness that took place in your head only further pushed you to have nausea. "finally." a deep, unsettling voice boomed out of somewhere. startled by the sudden noise, you quickly glance up to catch sight of a man's eyes. he stood right next to the door. that was the beginning of a new chapter. you were slipping away from sanity as time passed. most of the time, you were left alone. 'where am i?' You just sat on the bed trying to figure out what happened; what was happening. the man who stood in the corner — you learned his name was Yoongi — left after a while. he would talk a little with you before leaving the room, saying something about grocery shopping.

you kept up a calm facade for the sake of survival. You had to or else you didn't know what your captor would do to you. you had full knowledge that he had the possibility of hurting you, or even worse, he could kill you. just like he had the guts to take you from your own freedom and dreams from when you were a little girl.

but there was no stopping time. it crept up until you realized that you've done nothing to help yourself get out. you've sat there day and night, acting like a good girl for him when it wasn't even you who wanted to be there. you've wasted seconds that led into days and you hope that it doesn't go on to years because you've truly lost yourself in this house. so, you prepared and waited until he left to act out. what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

as soon as Yoongi disappeared from your room and heard another door close, you took the opportunity to do what you don't usually do. all your yells for help and screams of desperation were drowned by the trees. You kept losing hope each wasted second. you were watching it slowly fall away from your grasp, and you couldn't do anything. the remorse of watching as the days went by and you were still stuck in a room locked in by your captor. It was just him and you. You and him. but he swore on the stars that when the time comes, it will no longer just be him and you, but mini-hims and mini-yous waddling around the house.

the small interactions you had with him were uncomfortably awkward for you, and you could clearly tell that he knew. and yet, he stuck around, choosing to stay and 'talk' with you. he didn't want you to think you were alone. he would be there for you.

as the weeks passed, the situation worsened for you. at first it was him moving into the room along with his things, then the part where he started sleeping next to you, and eventually to changing in front of you, touching you, and kissing you. Soon enough, it got more intense. That's when you knew you had to get out someway. You knew what step was next when his touching didn't stop at a few pecks. yoongi began to play with your tits, holding your ass tight to his crotch every night. you just couldn't get away from him.

everything was fucking shut tight. you felt the heat of anger crawling in your body. each window was locked, even the cabinets were locked. there were also hidden cameras. it was just your luck when you had found one in the bedroom hidden perfectly. you were very surprised when you saw it peeking out of the lights. it just proved to you that yoongi was a fucking lunatic. he had been watching you and you were fucking clueless about it. but it also meant that there could of been hundreds of these tiny cameras recording you. you needed to get out.

you couldn't take it any longer. You were watched every single second. You were touched when he was home. You just couldn't keep it going like this. it was your breaking point. you screamed, sobbed, and whimpered at the fact that you were here. 'pathetic', you thought. there you were crying miserably on your mattress without trying to escape.

you heard the door open and then close, you dug your head into your pillow as the footsteps came closer. "it's okay." You immediately felt the presence of Yoongi by your side, pulling you up into a hug. he was panting. "I was worried about you." The hug got tighter. "I came here as fast as I could."

yoongi had worried about you. in that moment, you realized that maybe you gave up long ago. That's why you let him do what he did, after all, a whole year did pass without your knowledge. missing posters crumbling on the floor as the world continued to revolve without your existence. You had gotten used to his presence, his kisses, his behavior, and his love towards you. You were so frightened at first and used his attraction for you as a shield.

he kissed your lips gently before sticking his tongue inside of your mouth. your arms unconsciously wrapped around him. And for the first time, you let him touch you with his love and lust. the unbuckling of his belt made goosebumps grow out of excitement. With one thrust, your pussy sucked him in whole. Yoongi lowly groaned while you whimpered at the sudden feeling of his cock inside of you."I love you."

Yoongi waited. Were you going to say it back? his hips pounded into you with a harsh pace. You guttered nonsense as you quickly held onto his shoulders for support. the overstimulation flourishing on your cunt as his cock disappeared inside of you. "I-I love you..."

He kissed your nose gently. Yoongi stayed still until you came, cunt squirting around his cock with need. He moved his cock out slowly before filling you back in, his hot tip reach your cervix. a smile on his lips as he continued to repeat his desperate actions. a yearn in him to hear you moan in his ears louder. to make sure his cockhead reached your soft spot good enough that you would be whimpering under him as his cock perfectly managed to hit your g-spot. yoongi sucked on your skin, groaning against it as your pussy clenched around him. you were so perfect. his fingers dived into your hair as you milked his dick dry. his pace got sloppier, soft grunts escaping his throat as you legs wrapped him closer to you. yoongi pushed himself until he was deep inside of you, cumming with a loud moan leaving his lips. limbs comforting each other as the stars shined brightly until the sun outshined them once again.

the constant fear of you leaving had vanished in yoongi. replaced with a loving emotion that never left him once. While you slept in his arms, he eyed you. his fingers tracing over your arms, "I really do love you." And he meant that. That's why no one was ever around the area his apartment was in. He made sure the cameras he brought were in use to protect his territory from trespassers. buying red, bold signs to keep people out of what's supposed to be kept hidden, and for anyone who didn't listen, there's a reason he bought a shotgun. he killed anyone that passed the border between your world and reality. it's really the main reason for the cameras that were placed everywhere: inside and outside.

And as time passed rather quickly, your stomach grew and your tits swelled with milk. yoongi couldn't contain the pure excitement when he found out. you were pregnant with his child; a family both of you were able to grow out of dreams. yoongi smiled as he talked day and night, chuckling as he pressed his ear and hands to your stomach. he couldn't be happier that everything he dreamt of was finally happening.

All he had to do was wait and the perfect family he had planned for years prior had been achieved. you were clueless to everything he'd done, maybe cause of the constant drugs that he put in your food and drinks. secretly hiding away inside the locked cabinets. yoongi's lips kissed your head with softness while you carried his tiny daughter in your arms after nine months of constant patience and care. "I really do love you, __." the tears that swelled up in your eyes reminding you of your past; memories that once rested coming back to haunt you. you felt the knot inside your throat, the disgusting taste of wanting to throw up because of the gruesome sight in front of you. The doctor's snow-colored coat was splattered with his own blood. he was dead, stabbed to death by your yoongi. the knife in the middle of his chest tensing you up along with the other harsh cuts against his skin. "I had to", was all he repeated, "for our baby." his fingers gently wiping the tears from your cheeks, "say it." You felt like you couldn't breathe during that moment. everything was taking you back to day one. "i-", you paused as your voice trembled, "i love you." the pile of blood grew, drowning out the wooden floor. a faint pink colored yoongi's cheeks, "i love you more."

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