#talking about how they’re living through a really long weekend

[look-at-the-stars-tonight]

My friends who work at [redacted] are going THROUGH it

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ Ｓｗｅｅｔｅｓｔ Ｐｉｅ ♡

♡ Pairing: sex worker!mingyu x chubby!fem!sex worker!reader

♡ Genre: smut/fluff

♡ Word Count: 3.2k-ish

♡ Summary: While spending the weekend at a mansion in the Hollywood Hills, a risky late night comment of yours draws the attention of your crush who happens to be in the same city and wants to see if you're all talk or about that action.

♡ Warnings: you're both spicy content creators, drinking, unprotected sex, Gyu's dick is kinda really huge, size kink for sure, stretching, riding, rough sex, doggystyle, clit play, ass slapping, oral sex (m receiving), cum eating/swallowing, dirty talk, switch Gyu/reader

♡ A/N: I usually put a sweet artistic statement in this space but I don't have a sweet artistic statement. I have a hot girl playlist and Mingyu's existence which is exactly how we ended up here. It's Mingyu, for the love of goddess, can you blame me?

This was never where you thought you’d end up. When you joked with your best friend, a successful OnlyFans girl, about starting one if your job kept working your nerves you hadn’t imagined actually doing it. Yet here you are, 8 months after that tipsy girl’s night, with a hefty following on social media and enough subscribers to never have to set foot in that job ever again. 

Like any other job it has its ups and downs but having your best friend there to help you navigate it early on makes it feel like lightwork now. Plus it’s so easy to ignore your haters when your bank account’s as stacked as it is.

For the first time in your life it’s optional to check pricetags, you can literally have whatever you want. Some things you don’t even have to pay for, they’re just dropped in your lap simply because you are who you are. 

That’s precisely how you scored yourself a weekend at this million dollar home in the Hollywood Hills. You’d passively mentioned during a custom video for one of your fans how hot you found it that he owned so much property.

“I’ve never played with my pussy in a mansion before” you pouted cutely, a vibrator whirling away inside you on its lowest setting. It wasn’t hint dropping as much as you wanted to stroke his ego but he took it as a chance to impress you, offering you a getaway at one of his places while he went on vacation for business. 

You’d be doing him a favor, he insisted, because he hated to leave the place empty for so long. The ego boost was more than enough compensation on his part that he didn’t feel like you owed him anything. Good because as a rule you do not fuck customers. You don’t even do content with other people in your industry. Everything’s solo. Always.

“Show us the top but off” you giggle, reading through the comments on your Instagram live. You do a quick spin, showing off your barely there bikini top. “There it is but it’s not coming off. You guys are gonna get me banned.” 

You only arrived a few hours ago and, exhausted from travel, decided that you’d rather spend the night in the jacuzzi out back than venture out to some crowded bar. This weekend is about relaxation after all and what’s more relaxing than sipping champagne in this warm bubbling water under the starry night sky?

It began to feel a little lonely though, you’re so used to having your best friend with you on these trips, so you decided to prop your phone up on the edge of the hottub and go live for a little bit. 

Reading through the comments, you get caught up in conversation about a million random topics. There’s suggestions for the best restaurants in LA, debates over if aliens are real or not, and even a quick KPop Smash or Pass game before someone brings you to a topic that has your heart thumping harder than an EDM festival.

Your rule on sleeping with other creators is a hard “No”, this everyone already knows, but when it comes to one man in particular that rule’s nonexistent. 

100_karat_xo Gyu saw your retweet 👀 youngxkwonskitty He’s coming over here aaaaaah!!!

You nearly choke on your next sip of champagne, watching the chat go wild as the memory of a recent drunken retweet hits you like a wrecking ball.

Your introduction to who Kim Mingyu was had been innocent enough. You were scrolling your feed one night and saw a video of a bunch of guys dancing. They were just fucking around really but they were genuinely talented and hot as hell so you had to do a little independent research to figure out who they were. 

Mingyu was the one who caught your eye the most with his beautifully tanned skin and a face so gorgeous it hurts to look at. It only worsened the situation when you stumbled upon his spicy account and found out he had the deadly combo of a body Greek gods would envy and a cock that’d have you walking funny for days. Who needs to walk straight anyway? You followed him on everything immediately, nearly died when he followed you back, and it’s been non stop flirting since. 

The two of you even ran into each other at a few parties where things would almost get hot and heavy but never ventured beyond a cute little makeout session. It’s painfully obvious both of you want something more though.

The most recent evidence came when Mingyu posted a video of himself seated in a chair facing a mirror wearing nothing but a pair of gray sweatpants. No shirt, nothing under the pants, just that muscular sunkissed chest and a mouthwatering dick print. 

You were weak in the knees from the sight of that alone but when his hand started moving in his lap, his palm smoothing over the long, thick print, you went feral. Mingyu’s caption asked, “Who does this belong to?” and the shots of Soju in your system that night had you responding, “Me!” before you could think better of it. That was a week ago and you must’ve pushed it to the back of your mind because you haven’t thought about it since. But Mingyu has. 

“Coming over here? What do you mean?” you ask, slinking down into the water as if it’ll somehow make you invisible. You get your answer immediately when a familiar name appears in the chat. 

dongangu.daddy Hey beautiful

“Mingyu! Stop! What are you doing here?” you squeal, a hand thrown over your mouth to hide the uncontrollable smile his arrival brings to your face. As if there’s a way to conceal how giddy you are over this man. Two words from him and your whole aura changes. You were glowing before but now you’re radioactive.

jeonghanssimp95 my worlds collide omfg _horanghaeheaux_ Can you both marry me?

dongangu.daddy has requested to join

Your eyes widen at Mingyu’s request, not expecting to be put on the spot like this. It’s not that you don’t want to see him. You’d look at that face every day if you could—beside you, on top of you, under you—but you’re mortified of swooning over him in front of this many people. 

Finally deciding that your retweet did all it could do to expose you for being down bad for Mingyu, you dry your hands on a nearby towel and accept his request. Another screen pops up below yours. There’s some darkness at first, a few seconds of shuffling, and then Mingyu’s displayed in all of his bare chested glory. 

“Why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?” he teases, shifting to a more comfortable position in bed. Of course he had to be shirtless. Of course he had to be in bed. Fuck your sanity. 

Your brain has to shake off a five second delay before you can answer. “You just got on and already you’re picking on me. I’m about to revoke your privileges, sir.”

Mingyu laughs off your comment, confident that you’re bluffing. You are. “No, don’t do that. I’m sorry” he pouts, raking his fingers through his short dark hair, “I just expected you to be happier to see me.”

“I am happy to see you but you can’t come on my live talking your shit.”

“I thought you liked it when I talk my shit” he smiles, recalling all of the X rated texts you’ve exchanged over the past few months. 

You shrug, mindlessly twirling your hair, “Talking is cute buuut actions are better.” 

The true meaning of “action” is clear for you both. Mingyu’s wanted action with you from day one, spam liking your posts the moment he saw that you followed him. You had the prettiest face, the sweetest smile, and your body was so soft and plush he couldn’t stop fantasizing about getting his hands on you. You were even more irresistible in person and that knowledge has had him on a mission to make you his ever since. A mission he’s not willing to give up on easily.

“Action? I can do that. I heard you’re in LA” he says, the white sheet around him falling away as he sits up in bed, “I am too. If you aren’t busy, maybe we could see each other tonight.”

“Oh, y-you wanna see me? And do what?” you stutter, going in for another nervous sip only to find that the glass is empty. You were not prepared to be this thirsty for a drink or for him. 

Mingyu tucks his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes flicking down to take in what he can of your figure peeking out from the water. His heart begins to race, his cock stiffening at the way your lush breasts bob above the surface, droplets of water decorating your cleavage like diamonds. 

“You tell me, babe. What do you wanna do?” 

His question soaks your bikini bottoms with a new type of moisture, your pulse already racing. What do you wanna do? With Kim Mingyu? What don’t you wanna do? 

“Gyu, aaah, fuck. It’s so…so…mmm” you whine, sinking lower onto Mingyu’s cock.

Your fingers trace his abs, your pink and blue ombre acrylics nicking his skin as your pussy relaxes to take the next inch of his cock. You’d seen it in pictures, even felt his bulge once or twice in person, but having him inside of you? Nothing could’ve prepared you for this stretch or for how full you’d feel after only a few inches. There’s still a couple more to go and you’re already shaking like you’re ready to cum. 

“Keep going, baby. You’re taking it so well” he praises, hands cradling your hips to help you take him at your own pace.

He isn’t in a rush to fuck you. That was never an intention of his. Mingyu’s more than pleased to lay here with you in bed, your fluffy thighs snug around his waist, and enjoy the view from below. And what a view it is. The faces you make are too cute for words. They make him want to hold you close and protect you from the rest of the world. At the same time, they’re the sexiest thing he’s ever seen. And, coupled with those little whines of yours, they give him the ravenous urge to fuck your brains out. Every last cell. 

“Don’t wanna wait anymore” you moan, leaning back with your arms behind you, palms resting on his legs. “I need it all.” 

He smooths his hands down your thighs and back up again, “Anything for you.” 

One thrust of his hips and you’re seeing stars. Mouth wide open. Eyes watering. It’s the fullest you’ve ever felt and you can only piece together a string of broken moans as your body adjusts to the new sensation. 

Mingyu smiles up at you, beaming with pride at what he’s done to you. “Too much for you?” he teases, his thumb stroking a solitary tear away from your cheek. 

You shake your head, never the kind of girl to reject a challenge. Breathing in deep, you steady yourself, raising your hips and slowly lowering them back down in a motion that has his eyes rolling to the back of his head. 

“Oh god, fuck” he groans not just at how perfectly your walls hug him and not just at you being wet enough to make that hottub outside look like the desert. Every move you make hits the perfect spot, your body titled at the exact angle required to make him feel like you’re stealing his soul straight from his body.

Keeping your pace, you lean forward and lick your way up his abs, sprinkling kisses across his chest. Mingyu can pretend that it doesn’t tickle in a way he likes much more than he thought he would but his body’s a dead giveaway. His muscles contract beneath your kisses, his length pulsing against your walls. You can almost hear his heart pounding through his chest. 

“Too much for you?” you taunt, smiling up at him, your walls purposefully clenching even tighter around his cock. 

Mingyu bites his lip, staring down at you like a meal he’s prepared to devour. The fire in his eyes makes your heart jump. Teasing him back has consequences and you can tell you’re about to suffer them. 

“Nah, I want more” he growls and two strong arms close around your body, one at your back and the other at your waist. Keeping you flush against his chest, he spreads his legs and buries himself even deeper into your needy core. If you thought you were seeing stars before, there's galaxies now. 

Mingyu holds you like he loves you, cradling you gently while he fucks you like he hates you, and with your arms pinned to your sides all you can do is take it. Waves of heat wash over your figure, the tingling of your nipples brushing his chest sending sparks through your system. There’s no talking back now, only fragments of his name rolling from your tongue. 

“M-min…” you whine, crumbling as the thick head of his cock bumps your sweet spot. You can feel his warm precum leaking into you, mixing with your arousal to make every movement all the smoother. 

“M-min” he coos, reaching a hand up to brush away the hair sticking to your pretty face, “Having a hard time talking back, sweetheart?”

Your eyes are hypnotizing on a regular day but he must admit that there’s something special about seeing them so dazed and glossed over all for him. He grabs the back of your neck with just the right amount of pressure, lifting you away from him enough that he shifts angles inside of you. It’s such a small change in position but it’s more than enough to have you squirming, mindlessly rocking your hips against his. 

“I didn’t know I had such a greedy girl on my hands” he says, tracing your jaw with feathery kisses. In a split second the room’s spinning on its head and you find yourself face down on the sheets with your arms held behind your back.

Mingyu slaps your ass and the sting gets you up on shaky knees. He doesn’t even need to tell you what he wants because you want it too. Teasing his cock at your entrance, he takes his time savoring the way that your juices drip all over him, your pussy already clenching in anticipation.

He runs the head along your slit, dipping it up to roll across that perky little clit of yours. He keeps you like this so long you’re drooling onto the pillow, clenching and dripping down his length and he isn’t even inside of you yet. 

Not one to be outdone, you drop your hips down, slipping him right up to your entrance. You sink back on him an inch or so, popping his head right inside of you. You hear a sharp inhale and feel his body give out on him for a second. You move your hips in a circular motion, teasing him with the sight of you stretching yourself open with his cock.

“I thought you said you wanted more” you giggle, shaking your ass in the cutest way. 

Mingyu slaps it again, gripping your hips, “So she can still speak. We gotta change that.”

He slams into you and you cry out at the force of his thrust. The aftershock has your body humming but there’s no time to soak it in. Mingyu doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up even a little bit. He’s feral for you. Already addicted to the feeling of you wrapped around him. 

Keeping your wrists pinned, he reaches around to massage your clit, and your knees almost give out. He catches you before you can collapse, keeping you right where he wants you. Gripping the pillow, you bite down hard, screaming as loud as you want into the soft cotton while he deep strokes you to the brink of insanity. 

It’s not long before a familiar feeling’s tugging at your stomach. You’re like a bottle of champagne, all shaken up and ready to pop. Mingyu rubs your bud faster, kissing the small of your back, “You gonna cum for me, baby? Hmm?”

Your body answers before your words can, jiggling in all the right places while you cum harder than you ever have. The clench and release of your walls as you gush down your own thighs drags him closer to his own high but he’s not ready yet. He has to keep thrusting into you, playing with your pussy until your body’s spent. 

For a moment it seems as if he’s achieved his goal. Reeling from your high, your whole body gives into the mattress and you’re stuck there, letting out the sweetest whines with his cock still inside of you. But that moment’s fleeting and in a few seconds you’re back up on your knees, whipping around to take his cock into your mouth. 

You don’t hesitate to take all of it into your mouth, not gagging once as you rub it against the back of your throat. If the gasps and moans coming from overhead are any indication, your tongue wrapped around his cock has him wrapped around your finger. You feel around blindly until you find his hands, intertwining your fingers with his. Your tongue traces the veins of his shaft, feeling the blood rush to the head throbbing at the back of your throat. 

The taste of your mixed arousal floods your senses as it drips from the corners of your perfectly pursed lips. You sneak a peek up at him. That gorgeous face. Those muscles dripping with sweat. His body jerks and you easily pick up on the signs, slipping him out of your mouth at the perfect time for him to cum all over your tongue and those plush, puffy lips. You take him into your hands, stroking him until you’ve gotten every last drop. Licking your lips clean, you kiss the tip and lay back in bed, bringing him down with you.

Mingyu cozies his head up to your belly, his chest heaving for air, “Where’d you learn to do it like that?”

“I don’t know, maybe I’m just gifted” you sigh, brushing your fingers through his hair. 

“Well, whatever you did, just know it’s yours now” he says, propping his chin up to gaze at you. 

“Mine? What’s mine?”

“I asked who this belonged to.  You said it’s yours. Unless you don’t want it…”

“No! No! No!” you scramble, your cheeks warming up again, “It’s mine! It’s mine! I’ll take it.”

Mingyu raises an eyebrow, using his last bit of energy to crawl on top of you, “You’ll take it again? So soon?”

He spreads your legs, dipping his fingers between your legs and you’re still dripping wet. He presses up against you and you giggle feeling how hard he still is.

“You did say it’s mine” you smile, legs wrapping around his waist, “So give it to me.”

[iwannakisskissyoureyesagain]

uhhh even more percy jackson headcanons

- there’s always music playing in the apollo cabin. they have communal playlists, but there are times when one person gets to play dj, especially when it’s relatively empty

- everyone has to emotionally prepare for audial whiplash whenever kayla gets to play music because she puts every song she has ever liked in her entire life onto one playlist, so it can go from twenty one pilots to ethel cain to beabadoobee to fifth harmony in just fifteen minutes

- will is usually pretty lenient with who gets to play what and when (he has a few clean playlists for when there are little kids present), but on days when the infirmary is packed and he’s visibly on the verge of collapse, no one dares change it from whatever kasey musgraves song he just put on

- austin exclusively plays obscure 20+ minute-long jazz songs. austin no longer has access to the cabin 7 spotify account

- there are bi-monthly meetings with all the counselors and chiron and dionysus to discuss any problems, questions, quests, deaths, fights, complaints, and other issues

- chiron ended up helping train and appointing a few other apollo kids to take up shifts in the infirmary when will accidentally fell asleep in the middle of one of said meetings. will kept insisting it was fine and that he wasn’t overworked, but eventually gave in when nico kept having to nudge him awake and chiron had to send him back to the apollo cabin early so he could take a nap

- frank cried so hard when he saw barbie that he had to leave the theater for a minute

- drew and will went to the sweat tour together

- drew actually kind of hates that charlie xcx is only really getting properly noticed now because of brat, because she’s a huge charlie fan and has been here since “boom clap”

- ever since blood of olympus, percy is genuinely terrified of getting a nosebleed. the first time it happens is when he’s sick at college and annabeth has to coach him through a panic attack

- nico isn’t actually that invested in star wars, star trek, or any other sci-fi franchise that will obsesses over, but sits through it anyways for his boyfriend’s sake

- piper and shel dressed up as different versions of chappell roan for halloween. piper was lady liberty chappell and shel was “good luck, babe” bird chappell

- every chance they get, piper and leo meet up, get jack in the box, smoke weed, and catch up in whatever car piper stole from her dad, because it helps them both feel normal

- piper and will smoke together whenever she visits camp, usually while having a shit talk session

- sally, paul, and estelle visited percy and annabeth for family and friends weekend while they’re at school, of course, but tyson, ella, hazel, and frank, piper and leo, and nico, will, reyna, and thalia (and, by nature, the rest of the hunters) all made time to stop by at various points during family and friends

- once he realized he could occasionally get away with sneaking out of olympus in the middle of the night, ganymede developed a habit of taking a walk down the beach at camp. he ran into dionysus one night and fully expected to have to fetch some fancy wine for him, or at least go back to get his chalice, unaware of his sobriety punishment, but did a total 180 when dionysus ended up being kind to him. instead, the two of them walked and talked about how much they both hate zeus, and it ended up becoming a therapy session for ganymede (think aimee’s first session in sex education)

- sally got annabeth one of those self defense keychains before she left for school

- apollo brings meg to camp every time he goes to visit his kids. on one visit, he took her, will, kayla, austin, and nico to build-a-bear. it was meg and nico’s first time going. nico was in total awe and meg cried and hugged apollo for a minute straight

- hazel prefers cartoons and animation over live-action movies and shows

- percy is really good at watercolor. rachel tries to teach him to paint and thinks he’s a prodigy until they move onto acrylics and she realizes he was just manipulating the water

- annabeth and sally both love watching the princess bride together. percy tries to watch it three separate times for their sake, like nico does with will’s sci-fi stuff, but ends up drooling on annabeth’s shoulder by the end of the movie each time

- percy desperately wanted a water bed for years when he was younger, but neither chiron nor sally would trust him with one. he eventually begged paul to get him one as a graduation present, and he put it in his cabin at camp. it lasted less than 24 hours before he popped it and woke up in the middle of the night on top of the deflated mattress, he himself completely dry but his floor absolutely soaked. dionysus made an announcement at breakfast the next morning that any mattress filled with anything except air was prohibited, and anyone else who flooded their cabin would get stable duties for a whole week

- will doesn’t like to use his plague powers very much after tsats, but he does like to give anyone who pisses him off mild-but-annoying congestion or a lingering headache

- nico and will like to do this thing to mess with people, where nico cracks will’s back or will cracks his knuckles and he lights up, usually in front of people who don’t actually know how will’s powers work

- austin is the exception to this rule; they do it in front of him because he hates the sound of people cracking their bones

- there was a point where everyone knew that will could glow except percy. he found out the hard way when he, annabeth, nico, and will were hanging out in the jackson-blofis apartment and the power went out, and nico cracked will’s spine and will started glowing. percy was so freaked out that he screamed and woke up the rest of the house

- sometimes frank eats fistfuls of shredded cheese, for the thrill

- very rarely, rachel talks in her sleep and says indiscernible bits of prophecies, both new and old. she has no idea she does it

- apollo hates leonard cohen

pt. 1

pt. 2

pt. 3

[coryndoll]

lies for lunch

rafe cameron x reader

— in which y/n returns to her hometown, the outer banks, to work as ward cameron’s assistant at cameron development, but living under his roof for the summer leads to unexpected tension with his son, rafe.

warnings: animosity, rafes daddy issues, safe !!

authors note: for the sake of the story i need y/n or you or whatever to have a person of familiarity whos hung back in obx to act like you’ve known each other for years, SO U HAVE A FICTIONAL BROTHER 😭

for the past ten months, you’ve been working at cameron development, helping ward negotiate deals and obtain permits. it’s been almost like being his assistant through everything. what started as an internship turned into a full-time job with actual pay after all this time.

they were right—hard work and determination can really pay off. you just didn’t expect to get so lucky with how quickly things moved. after a series of private meetings where ward discussed traveling back to north carolina to work in his hometown, he suggested you come along.

the relationship isn’t weird or inappropriate. you’re one of the few employees ward genuinely appreciates, which is more than he can say about the burnouts that float through the company. since you’re from the outer banks yourself, ward thinks it makes sense to bring you along to continue working for him and the company for as long as possible.

but anyway, you’re absolutely thrilled to be back in the outer banks. it’s more than just a job opportunity—it’s a chance to reconnect with everything familiar, everything that’s been tugging at your heart since you left.

the occasional visits have been fine, enough to keep the homesickness at bay for a while, but that constant, quiet longing for the place you grew up never really goes away. but now? now you’re staying in obx for the summer. no more fleeting weekends, no more rushed goodbyes. you’ll have time to breathe, to soak it all in. to be home.

the airport air is still fresh in your lungs when you slide into the backseat of the car, your bags dumped beside you. before the door even clicks shut, your fingers are already scrolling through your contacts. there’s only one person you want to talk to right now—your brother.

“hey,” you say, stretching out the word, a grin tugging at your lips as you hear the familiar click of him picking up.

“hey,” comes his easy, laid-back reply, his voice filling the small space around you like it always does. like home. “did you land?”

you bounce slightly in your seat as the car hits a bump, your grip tightening on your phone for a second. “yeah,” you confirm, digging through your bag absentmindedly. “i’m about twenty minutes from figure 8, so i’ll be there around noon. are mom and dad home?”

there’s a slight pause on his end, the sound of him shifting around, probably sprawling lazily on the couch back home. “nah, they’re not,” he finally says. “i swung by to check, but i guess mom’s out at lunch with her friends, and dad’s working today.”

you let out an involuntary groan, the disappointment settling in your chest. of course, it would work out like this. “this is what i get for trying to surprise them.”

his voice comes back, laced with mild amusement. “it’s your fault for not announcing you’re coming a day earlier.”

he’s right, but you don’t want to admit it. instead, you plow forward. “look, can you at least call mom and ask if she can be home soon? ward wants me to head straight to him as soon as i land, but i really wanna stop by as soon as i can. i can’t be there later than two.”

on the other end, you can almost hear the exaggerated sigh that you know is coming. the kind that’s loaded with all the typical dramatics. he’s probably rolling his eyes too, even though you can’t see him. “yeah, yeah, whatever,” he mutters, clearly unable to resist playing up his irritation. “i’ll take care of it. just text me when you’re on your way. still can’t believe you’re working for wc.”

with that, the call ends abruptly, and you pull the phone away from your ear, blinking down at the screen in mild confusion. wc? who calls him wc? you furrow your brow, lips tugging into a slight frown as you shoot off a quick text to your brother.

‘ 1st, nobody calls him wc. and 2nd, what??? ’

your phone buzzes again. his reply is as cryptic as ever.

‘ just a coincidence that in ny u ended up working for someone from obx still. don’t u remember him growing up? ’

you stare at the message, trying to piece together what he’s talking about, until another text follows almost immediately.

‘ he has like 3 kids. rafe, sarah, wheezie. i saw rafe down at the pier a few weeks ago. we used to see them at parties when we were younger. ’

rafe? sarah? wheezie? none of those names ring a bell. you rack your brain, searching for some kind of recognition, but you come up empty. a soft laugh escapes you as you quickly type back, ‘idk who that is lmao sorry’ and lock your phone, leaning back in the seat with a sigh.

ward cameron has three kids. it’s a strange thing to realize, that the man you’ve been working for these past couple of years has an entire family you’ve never heard of. but then again, work was always work. personal details were rarely exchanged unless necessary. and now, you can’t help but think—would you meet them? would they be anything like ward?

your brother mentioned seeing one of them recently, so you can assume at least one of ward’s children still live here. you wonder if the rest do too.

your thoughts wander as the car turns down another road, bringing you closer to the heart of figure 8. it’s been a long time since you’ve been back here, long enough for some of the details to feel fuzzy, but the feeling of the place—that never changes. the salty air, the warmth of the sun filtering through the car windows, the sense of familiarity that sits low in your chest, almost like relief.

you try to imagine what the next few months will be like. working for ward in the outer banks is worlds apart from working for him in new york. for one, the pace is different—slower, more laid-back. and for another, you won’t be disappearing into a faceless crowd when the workday ends. you’ll be here, surrounded by people who might actually know your name. or at least remember your face.

the car slows down, the gravel beneath the tires crunching softly as you near the cameron estate.

“thank you!” you call out, waving as the driver pulls away, leaving you standing on the driveway with your bags at your feet. for a moment, you just stand there, taking it all in. the cameron house looms in front of you.

you bend down, grabbing the straps of your bags and hauling them up, careful not to drag them across the grass. even though this isn’t your home, there’s an odd comfort in the way it feels.

you’ve been here before—well, not here exactly, but close enough. working summer jobs in figure 8 as a teenager had given you a glimpse of this world. a world where you were always on the outside, always temporary. back then, you were just a girl from the cut, doing what you had to do to get by.

no one looked at you twice. but now? now you’re here for something more. wanted, even.

the thought of it makes your stomach twist with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. you adjust the weight of your bags on your shoulder and step up to the door, knocking firmly before dropping your things to the floor with a soft thud.

a small sigh of relief escapes your lips as you straighten up, rolling your shoulders to shake off the stiffness from the journey. you’ve been lugging these bags around for hours, and your arms are starting to feel like lead.

as you wait, you take a moment to fix your hair, fingers smoothing back stray strands that have fallen into your face. it’s only then that you hear a rustle in the bushes to your left. your heart skips a beat, and you freeze, mid-motion, your eyes flicking toward the sound. you stretch your neck slightly, peering over your shoulder, but there’s nothing. just silence. your pulse settles again, and you let out a quiet laugh at yourself.

the door suddenly swings open, and you drop your hands to your sides, your face breaking into a smile. standing in the doorway is a girl, and instantly, you’re struck by how put together she looks.

her long blonde hair cascades down her back, and she’s dressed in a cozy white knit sweater paired with shorts. it’s casual, effortless, but there’s something about it that screams figure 8 wealth. but what really catches your attention are her socks—brightly colored, with little monster faces peeking out from the tops.

you smile a little wider at the sight. you’re starting to like her already.

“hey, i’m y/n,” you introduce yourself, stepping forward and extending your hand.

“it’s so nice to meet you! i’m sarah,” she replies, her smile just as warm as she reaches out to shake your hand. her grip is firm but friendly, and before you know it, she’s ushering you inside with a wave of her hand. “come on in! my dad isn’t here right now, but i can actually show you to our guest room. it’s, like, right next to mine. it’s so homey. you’ll love it.”

her energy is almost overwhelming, but in a good way. she’s excited, and you can’t help but feel a little relieved.

“i mean, yeah, sure,” you say, bending down to grab your bags again. but before you can get a good grip, sarah is already stepping in to help, lifting one of the bags with ease. you follow her inside, the door clicking shut behind you as you enter the home.

it’s everything you expected and more—bright, airy, with high ceilings and tasteful decor. it’s the kind of place that feels almost untouchable, like something out of a magazine.

as you make your way toward the stairs, you can’t help but glance around, taking it all in. the house smells faintly of lemon and clean linens, and the soft hum of the air conditioner is the only sound that breaks the quiet. it’s beautiful, but it’s also a little intimidating.

“so, is there anyone else home that i should worry about if i, like, wanted to shower?” you ask as you follow sarah up the steps.

sarah shoots you a smile over her shoulder as she leads the way. “i think you’re good. my brother and sister are here, but they won’t bother you. wheezie’s doing her homework, and rafe . . . well, he’s probably not even home.”

her tone is casual, like she’s talking about the weather, but you can’t help but feel a flicker of curiosity. you remember your brother mentioning a rafe in his text earlier, but the name still doesn’t mean much to you. maybe you’ll meet him later, maybe not. either way, it’s not something you’re too concerned about right now.

you reach the guest room door, and sarah twists the knob, pushing it open with a flourish. “here! this is your room for the summer.”

you step inside, and your breath catches in your throat. it’s . . . gorgeous. simple, but elegant, with soft cream-colored walls and wide windows that let in streams of natural light. the bed is large, with crisp white sheets that look impossibly inviting, and there’s a small sitting area in the corner with a plush chair and a side table. it’s more than you ever expected.

“wow,” you breathe, your eyes sweeping over the room. “this is . . . really nice.”

sarah grins, setting your bag down on the chair. “told you! if you’re gonna shower, i’ll leave you to it. but if you need anything, my room’s right next to yours.” she gestures vaguely toward the door. “the bathroom’s across the hall from mine. my dad will probably be home in, like, half an hour? him and rose just ran out to do something before you got here.”

you nod, but your mind snags on the name—rose. ward’s wife. it’s funny, now that you think about it, how little you actually know about ward’s personal life. you’ve worked with him for years, but he’s always kept things strictly professional. it’s only now, standing in his home, that you’re realizing just how much of his life is a mystery to you.

sarah gives you one last smile before slipping out of the room, closing the door behind her. and just like that, you’re alone. you let out a long, slow breath, your fingers absentmindedly twisting the rings on your fingers as you take a moment to center yourself. it feels surreal, being here. like stepping into someone else’s life for a while.

you cross the room and pull back the curtains, revealing a stunning view of the island and for a moment, all your worries melt away. it’s beautiful here. peaceful. maybe this summer won’t be so bad after all.

you grab your bathroom bag and a fresh set of clothes, the weight of the morning starting to press on your shoulders as you make your way to the bathroom. you pause outside the door, hearing the muffled laughter of sarah and wheezie from across the hall.

their lighthearted chatter pulls a soft smile onto your lips, a sense of warmth in this house. it's comforting, in a strange way, to be surrounded by family—even if it's not your own.

the bathroom is sleek, modern, almost too luxurious compared to what you're used to. you lock the door behind you and let out a long, relieved breath. the hot water feels like an escape, like it's rinsing away the tension of the trip, the awkwardness of being in someone else’s home, and the nerves tangled in your chest about what comes next.

as the minutes pass, you try to calm the buzz in your mind. you know you need to hurry—the last thing you want is to be caught mid-shower when ward and rose return. you quickly towel off, pulling on your new clothes with an urgency that betrays your attempt to stay calm.

you grab your bag off the counter, unlock the bathroom door, and step back into the hallway. as you cross toward your room, you stop abruptly. there, by the door, are three guys, clearly in the middle of something. confusion furrows your brow—who are they? why are they here?

one of them has his back to you, looking into the room, while the others glance in your direction, the closest one nudging the other to signal your arrival. great. more people.

the one in the doorway catches your eye. his hand is rubbing his jaw, his stance casual, like he owns the place. for all you know, he does. his other hand is stuffed in his pocket, his expression unreadable as he turns toward you.

you can feel the weight of their stares, but you offer a polite smile, trying to act unbothered even though you feel a little out of place. honestly, the house is big enough for all of them, and you're too new to figure out who’s who just yet. you’re not even sure who lives here or if they’re just guests like you.

before any introductions can be made, ward’s voice booms from the front of the house, pulling you from the awkwardness of the moment. “is she here?”

you move past the tall boy, dropping your bag off in the guest room, and make your way downstairs. your heart leaps when you spot ward and rose. the grin that stretches across your face feels genuine, a relief after navigating the uncertainty of the last few hours.

“hey,” you say, stepping off the last stair to shake their hands. “thank you for letting me stay in your home, by the way. i met sarah. she’s great.”

ward gives you a friendly nod, his demeanor warm but business-like—he's already familiar with your work ethic and you know that he expects the same here.

“yeah, wait ‘til you meet rafe and wheezie, though,” he says, glancing at rose, who’s already inching away, clearly not interested in small talk, and it stings more than you’d care to admit. but you brush it off, focusing on the fact that you’re here for work, not approval.

“did sarah show you your room?” ward asks, guiding you toward the kitchen.

“yeah, she did!” you nod, falling into step beside him. “it’s really nice. i also used the shower, honestly. also super nice.”

he chuckles lightly, gesturing to the open space around you. “help yourself to anything while you're here. bathrooms, the kitchen, the living room—whatever you need as long as you're working with me here.”

when you reach the kitchen, ward turns to face you, and you're about to answer his question when the boys from earlier walk in, their presence shifting the energy in the room.

the tall one—who you now realize must be rafe—moves with an air of familiarity, heading straight for the fridge without so much as a glance your way, though his friends have sprawled out on the couch nearby, keeping half an eye on the situation.

“you grew up here?” rafe asks, pulling something from the fridge with a nonchalance that borders on arrogance. his tone isn’t rude, exactly, but there’s a challenge in his words, like he’s testing you.

you shift your weight slightly, feeling his attention on you now. “yeah, i did.”

“humor me,” he says before his father can talk, smirking as he continues, “figure 8 or the cut?"

there it is—the divide. figure 8, the land of privilege and wealth, versus the cut, where people like you are from. it's a question loaded with judgment, but you stand your ground.

you hesitate, unsure whether to entertain your boss’s son. “that’s . . .” you begin saying, noticing the small hint of a smile on his lips as he twists the bottle cap off. “i lived in the cut.”

ward quickly steps in, raising a hand to ease the tension. “y/n,” he says, using your name in a way that reminds you you’re under his wing here. “you don’t have to answer his questions.”

there’s a quiet pause before he officially introduces rafe, confirming what you already suspected. “this is rafe,” he says, nodding toward his son, who watches you intently. ward pauses as he brushed over it quickly, “and his friends,” like he doesn’t want to say it.

you give a small wave in return, feeling the awkwardness creep back in. you’re not sure what to make of the boys yet, but the dynamic between them feels . . . off. guarded. like there’s more going on than meets the eye.

ward claps his hands together, breaking the silence. “time for lunch. rafe, can you please tell sarah and wheezie to come down?” he asks, already heading toward the patio doors. “y/n, feel free to find a seat at the table.”

you murmur an ‘okay’ and follow ward outside, the breeze hitting your face as you step onto the patio. you take a moment to scan the setup, unsure where to sit, but ward motions for you to pick any spot. the table looks inviting, the outdoor space just as luxurious as the inside. it’s surreal, really, being here—like stepping into a different world entirely.

the table outside is a lavish spread, every dish meticulously placed as though the meal is a display of the cameron family's status. some of the food is freshly prepared, you can tell by the steam rising from the platters, while other dishes have clearly been delivered, probably from some upscale restaurant.

everything is pristine, almost too perfect for a casual lunch, but you remind yourself this isn’t just any ordinary lunch. this is a welcome—to ward’s world, to his home, and into the lives of the camerons.

this lunch wasn't really about you, though. it’s more of a formality for ward’s return to north carolina.

as you sit at the table, alone for now, your gaze drifts to the patio, the large windows giving you a glimpse into the house. your thoughts wander to art, and you can almost hear his voice in your head—his dry humor, his sarcastic quips. he’d love this, probably have a million things to say about the whole setup.

the camerons, so far, seem nice. well, most of them. sarah is definitely the easiest to get along with, the type of person you instantly feel comfortable around. but rose? you're not even sure she’ll show up for lunch. and rafe . . . you’re still figuring him out. there’s something about him, something unreadable that leaves you on edge.

as your eyes sweep around the room inside, they land on rafe. he's with his friends, the same group from earlier, laughing and talking like they don’t have a care in the world. there’s an ease about him when he’s with them, like he’s more at home in their company than anywhere else.

you can’t quite put your finger on it, but something about him feels . . . dangerous? no, maybe not dangerous, but unpredictable. like he could switch from charming to something much darker in the blink of an eye.

and then it happens—he looks at you. directly at you, like he knows you’ve been watching him. the way he smiles is almost smug, as if he’s aware of the effect he has on people, on you. your heart does a small flip, caught off guard by the intensity of his gaze.

then, just as quickly, he says something to his friends, who erupt into laughter, and you feel the uncomfortable prick of self-consciousness. are they laughing at you? god, you hope not. the last thing you need is to be the butt of some joke you don’t understand.

you pull your focus away, trying to ignore the warmth creeping into your cheeks, and you shift in your chair, suddenly too aware of how out of place you feel. this isn’t your world, not yet at least. you’re still figuring out the rules, where you stand, who you can trust. it's like being in a play without knowing your lines.

“i know my kids are going to be a handful when they’re all together, so . . . be prepared for that,” ward’s voice cuts through your thoughts, and you turn slightly to glance over your shoulder at him. there’s a warmth to his tone, something almost paternal. “but they’re good.”

you force a small smile and nod, though you’re not sure how much you believe him. you have a feeling ‘good’ might mean different things in the cameron household.

“you’re a year or two older than sarah,” he continues, and you turn back to face the table, focusing on the clean lines of the polished wood, the way the sunlight catches on the glassware. “you’re not that far off in age with rafe, either. sarah’s probably going to be your best friend. she can’t help it.”

there’s a lightness in his voice, and you get the sense that sarah is the glue that holds this family together, the one everyone relies on to keep things civil. “but rafe . . . he’ll warm up to you.”

will he? you can’t help the slight lift of your brows, amusement flickering in your expression as you consider his words. you don’t agree, but you can’t say that. something about rafe feels like he’s not the type to easily ‘warm up’ to anyone, especially someone like you—an outsider stepping into his territory.

“yeah,” you murmur, your tone filled with doubt, “i’m sure of it.”

the cameron family finally gathers at the long, polished table outside, sunlight filtering through the trees and casting dappled patterns across the plates. you take in the scene quietly as everyone finds their places, the quiet shuffle of chairs pulling out, scraping slightly against the patio stones.

it’s a family affair, but rafe’s friends have tagged along—an addition that seems unsanctioned by ward but tolerated nonetheless. ward positions himself at one head of the table, with you and sarah flanking either side of him like you’re all part of some carefully orchestrated tableau.

rafe is at the opposite end, far enough that the distance feels intentional, deliberate. you can’t help but notice how he’s checked out, his gaze drifting, uninterested. to your right, one of his friends, the blond one, settles beside you, and his presence feels awkward, like he’s trying to take up as little space as possible, aware of the invisible tension in the air.

on the other side of him, the other friend sits, both of them quiet for now. down sarah’s side, wheezie sits next to her sister, then rafe at the very end. the empty chair beside wheezie feels like a gap. technically it’s rose’s chair if she were to have changed her mind.

“so what are you?” wheezie asks, breaking the initial silence, and you can see sarah’s immediate reaction, the quick glance she shoots her sister, a mild scolding in her eyes.

the phrasing is blunt, too blunt, but then again, wheezie is a kid—still learning the art of conversation, still figuring out the way words land.

before you can answer, ward steps in, his voice calm but authoritative. “y/n is my assistant,” he says, filling in the blank you hadn’t yet decided how to describe. you pause mid-chew, a small bite of food lingering on your tongue as you listen to him explain. “she’ll be working with me here in north carolina for cameron development over the next few months.”

you nod slightly, not sure how to react to being discussed like you’re not there. you’ve been in situations like this before, professionally at least, but it feels different now, being talked about in front of his family. a piece of you wants to assert yourself, to explain your role in your own words, but it feels like there’s no room for that right now. so, you stay quiet.

“that’s cool,” sarah says, her voice warm and genuine as she glances over at you, a small, encouraging smile on her face. she seems like the type who would get along with almost anyone, a natural mediator. “what do you do? as his assistant and all.”

from the corner of your eye, you catch rafe’s subtle shift, his gaze flicking toward sarah, his expression sharp for a moment, like he’s not interested in this conversation but is still somehow annoyed by it. you wonder what’s behind that look, what tension simmers under the surface.

you swallow and clear your throat, aware that everyone’s waiting for your answer now. “uh, yeah,” you start, your voice sounding more casual than you intend, like you’re trying to downplay your actual responsibilities.

“your dad has his job—he oversees the projects, handles the big picture stuff. i come along when he needs help with negotiating contracts and leases, hiring architects, engineers, contractors, all that. i also scout available land for potential developments.” you pause, glancing around the table. “just stuff like that.”

there’s a moment of silence, and for a second, you think maybe your explanation was enough. but then, like a crack in the veneer, rafe speaks, almost mockingly, “do you also get him coffee whenever he asks? do you fuck him, too?”

his words hit like a punch, unexpected and crude, cutting through the air with a kind of reckless confidence that leaves you momentarily stunned. for a second, the table feels frozen, like no one’s quite sure how to react.

the blond boy next to you nearly chokes on his food, a strangled half-laugh escaping before he catches himself, suddenly aware that rafe’s comment shouldn’t be funny.

your stomach twists, a flush of heat creeping up your neck as you force yourself to stay composed, staring straight at rafe from across the table. his gaze is fixed on you, unflinching, like he’s testing you, waiting to see how you’ll respond.

it’s infuriating—the audacity of it, the way he tosses out the insult so casually, like it’s no big deal.

ward sets his fork down with a soft clink against the plate, his fingers intertwining as he leans forward slightly. the tension shifts, thickening around the table, and you can feel every set of eyes on you, but your focus remains on rafe.

“rafe,” ward’s voice is calm, measured, but there’s a warning in it. and yet, rafe doesn’t look away, doesn’t flinch. he stays locked onto you, like you’re locked in some kind of silent standoff, and part of you wonders what he’s trying to prove.

after a beat of silence, ward adds, “can i talk to you inside the house?” it’s not really a question, more of a command, and finally, rafe moves. slowly, he pulls the napkin from his lap, tossing it onto the table before rising from his seat.

ward turns to you, his expression softening into something apologetic, and you nod slightly, acknowledging his silent apology even though you’re not sure what to do with it. as they disappear inside, the tension lingers, heavy and uncomfortable.

you force yourself to take another bite of food, though it feels like chewing cardboard. the uneasy feeling coils tighter in your chest. this is off to a rocky start, to say the least. sarah and wheezie seem fine, but rafe . . . rafe’s going to be a problem.

sarah reaches across the table, her hand brushing lightly against yours, and you glance up to meet her eyes. there’s sincerity in her expression, a quiet kind of empathy. “i’m so sorry for him,” she says softly. “rafe has a tendency to act like an idiot on a daily basis. don’t let anything he says get to you.”

before you can respond, the blond boy—topper, you think—finally speaks, his voice quiet but carrying a hint of amusement. “he doesn’t have a tendency to act like an idiot every day,” he says, shaking his head slightly as he takes another bite of food, a small smile playing on his lips. it’s the first thing he’s said to you directly, and the casualness of it surprises you.

“oh, he absolutely does,” sarah retorts with a light laugh. “and i’m sure you get yours from him.” she turns to you, smiling again. “y/n, this is topper and kelce, if you hadn’t already been introduced.”

before you can say anything, wheezie pipes up quickly, almost as if she’s sharing a secret, “sarah and topper used to date.” her voice is soft, but the reaction from sarah and topper is immediate—they both look over at her, like this was something she wasn’t supposed to say out loud.

“what?” wheezie says, glancing around the table innocently.

you can’t help but smile at the sibling dynamics playing out in front of you. it reminds you of your own relationship with your brother, the way siblings know each other’s secrets, their histories, the things that outsiders wouldn’t catch unless they were paying attention. in this brief moment, amidst the tension, you find a sliver of familiarity, of something you recognize.

you pull your napkin off your lap, rising from your seat, feeling the tension still clinging to your skin like humidity. you adjust your clothes, smoothing down fabric that doesn’t need smoothing, but it gives your hands something to do.

“where’s the nearest bathroom inside?” you ask, trying to sound casual, but you can feel the strain in your voice, the way your words almost trip over themselves.

“once you’re in the kitchen, it should be the door in the hallway if you just keep walking straight,” sarah tells you, offering a small smile. you nod in response, forcing yourself to return the gesture, though it feels hollow.

you step away from the table, and sarah seizes the moment to nudge wheezie, probably to scold her for spilling her relationship drama with topper.

as you make your way toward the bathroom, your steps slow. it’s not like you really need to go. you glance behind, making sure no one’s paying attention, before diverting your path to the front door instead. the knot in your stomach tightens with every step.

the front door is slightly ajar, and through the opening, you spot rafe. he’s leaning back in a chair on the porch, his head tilted toward the sky as if it’s the only thing he can stand to look at.

ward’s standing near him, mid-conversation, and their voices pull you in, despite knowing you shouldn’t eavesdrop. you lean against the doorframe, just out of sight, your heartbeat quickening.

“you didn't have to fly out some girl that works at the company just because she’s doing good,” rafe says, lifting his head from the chair, his voice tinged with frustration, like he’s been holding it in for too long. “i could've taken the job, especially because i’m already here.”

there’s bitterness in his words, but beneath that, you catch something else—something raw. rafe’s trying to understand why he’s being left out, why he’s not the one ward trusts.

“exactly, rafe,” ward replies, his tone firmer than before. “you're twenty-one and you’re still here. she’s twenty and she's been working with me for nearly two years. don’t you think that says something?”

his words land heavily, and for a moment, there’s silence. you feel the weight of the comparison ward’s making, and it sinks into you too, even though it shouldn’t. rafe chuckles, standing up, but it’s not out of amusement. it’s a defense mechanism, a way to shield himself from whatever hurt ward’s words are causing.

“y/n is here because she’s good at what she does,” ward continues, his voice steadier now, trying to end the conversation.

“alright, dad,” rafe says, nodding, but his expression betrays his words. “let's say i believe that—because i don’t—why am i not in her place?”

ward sighs, shaking his head like he doesn’t understand how rafe isn’t getting it. “rafe, think about what kind of job she has. how could i trust you with that?”

the words sting, and even though they aren’t directed at you, you feel a strange sense of guilt crawling under your skin. you know you’ve earned your place, worked hard for it. but hearing it spelled out like this, in such a stark contrast to rafe, it makes you feel . . . uncomfortable.

rafe rubs his chin, his fingers brushing against the stubble there. he doesn’t say anything, just nods like he’s processing it all, or maybe pretending to. he turns to head back inside.

and that’s when he sees you, standing there, caught in the act of listening.

his eyes lock onto yours, and for a second, you don’t know what to do. your throat tightens, but you force yourself to keep your head high. you can’t apologize. you don’t need to. this is your job, after all, the one you’ve worked damn hard for.

still, the silence stretches between you, heavy and uncomfortable. rafe doesn’t say anything, just turns away, walking back out toward the patio. you exhale, realizing you’ve been holding your breath. the knot in your stomach only tightens as you push yourself off the doorframe and head toward the bathroom, your footsteps almost echoing in the stillness of the hallway.

you stop in front of the bathroom door, staring at it like it might hold some answers you don’t have. your hand reaches for the knob, your fingers curling around it, but you don’t turn it. instead, you stand there, replaying the conversation in your head, trying to make sense of what you’ve just heard. rafe’s resentment, ward’s trust in you—it’s a lot to take in, and you wonder if you’re supposed to feel . . . what? proud? guilty? it’s hard to pin down.

before you can figure it out, you hear footsteps approaching. your hand drops from the doorknob just as ward’s voice reaches you.

“hey,” he says, his tone softer now, though there’s still an edge of frustration lingering there, probably from his conversation with rafe. “you and the girls getting along good?”

you plaster on a smile, nodding even though your thoughts are still tangled from the scene outside. “yeah, we’re good.”

ward mutters a small ‘good, good’ as he walks past you, heading back to the patio. you watch him go, your arms crossing over your chest as if that’ll hold you together. you follow behind him slowly, a quiet unease settling in your chest. this family, with all its complications, feels like a storm you’ve just walked into.

and then there’s rafe. if he already resents you, you can only imagine how his friends—topper and kelce—will react. boys like them, they stick together, and you know that dynamic all too well. the chances of them giving you a fair shot seem slim.

you brace yourself as you step back outside, a small sigh slipping past your lips. this job, this place—it’s not going to be easy. but nothing worth it ever is, right?

“so you're from the outer banks?” sarah asks as soon as you sit back down. there’s an edge to her voice, like she’s making an effort to seem casual but is still trying to figure you out. you can’t blame her. she’s probably just trying to get a feel for who you are, maybe ease the tension that’s been hanging in the air since you got here.

“where from?” she adds, glancing at you over the rim of her glass.

you pause, fork hovering just above your plate, feeling a flicker of unease. it’s a simple enough question, but you can already feel the weight of your answer.

“near quinton,” you say, cutting into your food with deliberate care, keeping your tone light. “a little south.”

you don’t look up as you speak, focusing on the neat little slices you’re making in your lunch, as if perfecting that action could keep the conversation from slipping into uncomfortable territory.

“i’m surprised we haven’t met before today,” you continue, the lie slipping out so smoothly you almost believe it yourself. “my friends and i knew just about everyone before i left the island.”

but the truth sits heavily in your stomach. you don’t know them. sure, your brother mentioned that your families had crossed paths when you were younger, but the memories never stuck. whatever brief moments there were, they’ve faded into the backdrop of your childhood.

rafe, however, doesn’t let your words slide by as easily. he latches onto them like a dog with a bone, straightening in his seat, eyes gleaming with interest.

“your friends?” his voice cuts through the air, almost too eager, too sharp. it’s like he’s waiting for you to say something wrong, give him an opening to tear into you. sarah watches him warily, her eyes flicking between you and her brother. she’s looking for help—maybe from her dad—but the tension is palpable, thickening by the second.

your phone buzzes in your back pocket, and the vibration pulls you from the uncomfortable scrutiny rafe’s casting in your direction.

“who do you know here?” he presses, and his tone is challenging now, like he’s daring you to prove something to him. to justify your place here, in this house, at this table.

you lift your gaze then, meeting his eyes with a steady look, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing you squirm. but there’s something in the way he’s staring at you that makes your skin crawl, like he’s already made up his mind about you, about what kind of person you are.

it’s fucking exhausting.

“hate to interrupt you, ray,” you say, letting a mocking lilt creep into your voice as you rise from your seat. you keep your movements controlled, measured, not too rushed. “but i have a phone call.”

you pull your phone from your pocket, waving it slightly, feeling a small rush of satisfaction when rafe’s jaw clenches ever so slightly. “let me just take that really quick so we can continue our conversation.”

you don’t wait for his response, because you know whatever he says will just add to the irritation simmering beneath your skin. as you step out of the way, you hear him mutter, “it’s rafe,” under his breath, like correcting you is somehow important to him.

“it’s actually my brother!” you whisper-yell back, flashing the screen of your phone in his direction, making sure he sees the call.

as you walk away, you feel the tension ease just slightly, but it’s still there, humming beneath the surface. this place—figure eight, tannyhill—it’s like a tangled web, and you’ve just stepped into it, with people like rafe already ready to watch you stumble.

you press your phone to your ear as you step out of the patio and into the cool air of the home, and you try to calm yourself, leaning against the wall as your brother’s voice greets you on the other end.

you know you’ll have to go back in there, face rafe again, but for now, you allow yourself a brief moment to breathe.

considering making this a few-part series (maybe) !! let me know if you’d be interested thru replies, anons, or dms <3

@tiaamberxx

[moamidzyism]

pobrecito (c.sb)

☆。.:*·ﾟwc 1440 smut ౨ৎ minors DNI ˚⁺。˚ // repost ୨୧ brother's best friend!soobin x fem!reader, sub!soobin, perv!soobin [masterlist • reblogs + feedback appreciated]

going home for the summer was never your idea of a good time but your parents had begged you to, claiming that they never saw you anymore. little did you know that they just wanted you to house-sit while your twin brother was around because they had planned a weeklong getaway the one week you could make it back to the town you grew up in. so now, you’re stuck in your parent’s house all week long.

you thought that you could take this time to spend with your brother, given the fact that you hadn’t seen him since winter break, but he was more concerned with showing his college roommate around your hometown. soobin, the roommate, was quiet. he didn’t really talk as much as he just followed your brother around like a lost puppy.

it was a surprise how your loud, obnoxious brother got along with him, when soobin went by mostly unnoticeably.

mostly.

there were some things you couldn’t help but notice: like he never made eye contact with you when you spoke to him, or how he stuttered unbelievably when you asked him the simplest questions, or how his gaze lingered on you when you passed him in the hallway.

like tonight, for instance, the three of you sat together in the living room for the first time that week. you sat cross-legged on the living room floor around the coffee table, a box of pizza in between. they had spent their nights during that first weekend in the next town over but in your small town there was not much to do on a monday night other than watch high schoolers perform vape tricks in the mall parking lot, before they’re chased off by the night security.

so the three of you sat together in mostly awkward silence and uncomfortable small talk, the only sound coming from the sports game playing at low volume on the tv.

“so, did you guys do anything fun today?” you asked the two boys sitting opposite you. you leaned backwards to rest your back on the couch. you paid extra attention to soobin, and the way his eyes followed along the stretch of your body. his eyes ogled the way your t-shirt rode up, exposing the patch of skin right below your belly button. he took a long sip of his drink.

“yeah, we went to the old arcade on main street.” your brother responded on behalf of the two of them. then you fell back into the silence, picking the toppings off the slice on your plate.

when you were done eating you retreated to your room. the two of them dawdled in the living room for a while longer before withdrawing to your brother’s room. on his way to the bathroom, soobin stopped at your door to see that it was slightly ajar. he didn’t mean to peek through the slit. he didn’t mean to see you laying in bed with one of your hands under your shirt. and he definitely didn’t mean to follow your other arm to see it pressing on the pink vibrator that was between your legs, buzzing against your clothed cunt.

but he did and he couldn’t help but rush to the bathroom and turn on the shower to mask the sounds of his moans as he rubbed his hard length, his eyes rolling back in his head, thinking about what it would feel like to have his hands replaced by yours. what it would feel like to taste you. what it would feel like to hear your pretty voice moaning his name, telling him how good he is. 

his hips not-so-rhythmically met his fists, fisting his dick as if it were you. he just needed to feel something, feel good. his back was resting against the cold shower wall as he inched closer to his orgasm. the cold water ran down his face, which was contorted with pleasure as he bit his lip to stop a guttural groan from escaping.

the next morning, you went into the kitchen to make yourself a cup of coffee. you saw a note on the kitchen island from your brother saying he went to pick up breakfast for only him and soobin, who was still sleeping.

asshole, you thought as you went to the fridge to figure out what you were going to eat.

now, last night, soobin was blessed with post nut clarity, which is when he came up with his foolproof plan. it had only been three days that he had been in the house with you but he had already memorized your morning routine. he pretended to be asleep when your brother left. and then he waited for the sound of your bedroom door opening, indicating that you were no longer in your room.

then it was game time.

he snuck into your room, going through your laundry basket to see if you discarded your underwear from last night. even if you didn’t, he hoped that he would find another pair of cum stained panties that he could use to jerk off with.

after finding nothing suitable to eat in the kitchen, you decided to go back to your room and order breakfast from somewhere nearby. to your surprise, you see your brother’s tall friend standing in your room with something pink and lacy in his hands. “what are you doing here?” you ask, causing him to jump.

he quickly shoves his hand in his pockets when he sees you standing in the doorway, a look of confusion and intrigue on your face. “i- i thought you were in the shower.”

“that doesn’t explain why you’re in my room.” you inch closer to him. “what’s in your pocket, binnie?”

he feels his dick twitch at your use of that nickname, but that didn’t distract him from his plan b – if anything goes wrong, deny everything. “nothing.”

“now, you know i don’t believe that, soobin. show me what’s in your pocket.” he pulls out the underwear you wore two days ago, causing you to scoff. “you’re so pathetic.”

“i’m sorry.”

“you’re sorry because you got caught.”

“no, i’m so sorry.”

“but baby, you’re still holding my underwear.” he drops them instantly, making you chuckle. your laugh was full of venom as you lifted your hand to caress his face.

“i didn’t mean to.”

“didn’t mean to do what?” you asked in mock coyness.

“i’m sorry.” you scoff again.

“is that all you can say?”

“i need you.” he mumbles.

“oh, poor baby.” you push him onto your bed. “what would my brother say if he came home to see you in his sister’s room?”

“i don’t care.” his breath hitched in his throat. “i- i just want you to touch me, please.”

“aww,” you coo. “you want me to touch you, binnie. do you think you deserve it, baby?”

“yes,” he gulps, pulling you with his long legs so that you fall on top of him, your clothed heats coming in contact with each other. he groaned at the touch.

“ha! you definitely don’t deserve it after that.” you sit up straight, finding a comfortable spot on his knee, his arms holding you in place behind your waist.“but you’re lucky, i’m feeling nice today.” you palm his cock through his sweatpants, feeling it enlarge under your hands. “you come into my room, looking through my dirty laundry like a disgusting, little pervert. and now you’re so hard, but i barely even touched you.”

“it’s b-because of you.”

“hmm, is that so?” pull his dick out, slowly stroking it. his dick twitches at the contact and he lets out a whine.

“yeah, your… your boobs.” he looks down at your hardened nipples poking through the white t-shirt you wore to sleep. “bet they look better with nothing on them.”

“you want to see them?” you ask, to which he responds with an over-eager nod. as soon as you took off your top, his lips automatically attached to your right nipple, taking it between his teeth, while his other hand fondled your left breast. you leaned your head back in ecstacy. you messily grind on his thigh, craving the feeling of something on your heat.

“fuck, soobin.” you cry out, as he moans against your breast, sending chills down your spine.

you tighten your previously loose grip on his dick, stroking him to a steady rhythm. you could feel him get closer and closer and before you knew it, he was shooting his cum on your hands. “fuck,” he whined.

“we need to clean up, my brother is going to be back any minute.”

taglist: @dearlyjun @atinyniki @boba-beom

fill out this form to join my taglist! author's note :: this was the first thing i wrote for soobin and also the first smut i wrote for txt – i'm not very confident about the ending but i hope you enjoyed lol

[mcondance]

listen…hear me out…i’m imagining stu falling for a real sweet girl but this girl is like yuck i know your reputation playboy and since he’s obsessed with the chase he’s really gunning for it maybe even calling her as ghostface, getting her scared just so stu can swoop in and be like awh poor baby here i’ll keep you safe <3 big mean ghostface can’t get ya when im around

we should form a collaboration. (this got so long anon. i blame you. 18+) this idea has my brain turning like it gets him going so bad to scare you and then be able to come back and be your savior. it appeases the side of him that likes the chase, and the side of him that likes being in control. i think they’re both linked to his need for dominance and his sadistic nature so this is a win win for him.

you know him through sidney’s boyfriend billy, but you’ve never said more than a couple of words to each other outside of the friend group. aware of his reputation, your answer to his question is easy.

you tell him no, that you wouldn’t touch him with a 3-and-a-half foot pole. (he responds in typical stu fashion. he slaps a hand over his chest, expressing how hurt he is by your rejection, a knowing smile etching across his face.)

and so begins the chase. you turn him down over and over again, inviting sidney to the dates he asks you on, saying that the movie he wants to see with you just isn’t your taste— even if he knows he heard you talking to sid about how you wanted to see it just the week before, stupid little excuses to avoid everything he asks you.

he doesn’t mind. your rejections of his advances let him feel the way he does when he’s shrouded in that fearful black cloak, coming up with more and more ways to get you.

he keeps his distance— ghostface, that is. stu doesn’t want to scare you yet. with occasional phone calls that he directs to more people than just you, he lets you off easy, makes it seem like it’s just random.

but he’s getting a little anxious, and he’s always been impatient. he wants you.

billy and sidney are out of town for the weekend. and you’re terrified, more and more people close to you have been turning up dead. you resort to asking stu to stay with you for the weekend.

if he gets you to fuck him while he’s “protecting” you from ghostface? god he’d feel so good. he never forgets his alter ego, the slasher that terrifies your sleepy little town, but playing as your loving, caring little “friend” is fun too. he thinks you’re kinda stupid, to let him stay over at your house under the guise of keeping you safe.

you’d changed into your house clothes when you both got to your house, telling him not to touch anything while you were gone. when you came out he was in a t shirt and shorts, and he looked awfully good.

you’d let him have some of your snacks, throwing a bag of hot chips at him and perching on the other end of the living room sofa. you’d turned on some long ass video essay, and he actually found it sort of interesting, quizzing you on what certain stuff meant before you got tired and wanted to sleep.

he thinks, maybe you do have a thing for him. why else would you let a freak like him stay over? whatever the case may be, he’s here. in your pretty pink and white bedroom, he almost scoffs at the softness of it all.

“‘s cute.”

“yeah. i put blankets and shit on the couch. you sleep there.”

his lanky body barely fits on the small chair, but he knows he won’t be there too long, so he doesn’t complain.

the blanket you gave him smells like you, and he basks in it. your room is silent, for a while. in the darkness, your mind gets to you and you’re so scared even with stu right there.

“stu,” you whisper.

“yeah?”

“can you come sleep over here? i’m scared.”

there it is.

“yeah, ‘f course.” he feigns genuine sympathy, though you’re smarter than that and no matter how hard he tries, there’s always a sliver of depravity peeking through his words.

you scoot from the middle of your bed to the one side, lifting the covers up to let stu take the other side. too terrified to even get smart with him, you welcome him into your bed.

what a terrible mistake you’ve made.

in the light streaming through your windows, he looks gorgeous, blue eyes gazing softly at your worried expression.

“hey,” he starts, reaching out to rest his hand on your shoulder. you don’t shrink away. you’re frozen. “i got you. promise i’ll keep you safe.”

he’s full of shit. but it works.

“can you just. . just hold me. don’t make it weird.” you scoot closer to him.

“i won’t. come ‘ere.”

shifting, you move until your back is pressed to his front. he wraps his arms around you, cradling you and your fragile psyche in the palm of his hand.

“d’you think he’ll try and come for me?” you ask him.

“i dunno. but i promise i’ll do everything i can t’keep you safe.”

god, he impresses himself sometimes.

“thank you.” you whisper, the words stuck in your throat.

“no problem.” you can feel him looking at you, can see him out of the corner of your eye.

with his arms wrapped around you, all the feelings you’ve gained for him over the past weeks come to a head. he’s warm behind you, and he’s holding you just tight enough.

you twist around to where you can see him, and if you were standing your knees would have buckled from his gaze.

“if i let you kiss me, would you promise not to make it weird?”

“promise.”

“okay,” you breathe. and you kiss him.

what a terrible, terrible mistake you’ve made.

it all goes so fast from there. one kiss turns into many and you’re turning around so you can face him all the way.

he’s got you on your back and his hand down your shorts before you know it. his lithe fingers toy with you, his mouth swallows every single one of your sounds, his body provides you comfort, a distraction from the murderer desecrating your safe town.

you come for him. you make a mess on his fingers, the ones he knows are soaked with blood. he could almost shout from how elated he is to have you wrapped around his fingers.

over you he moves, pulled by his collar on top of you and to your lips again. he wants to be smug about it, to note the lack of 3-and-a-half feet between you two, but he doesn’t.

instead, he kisses you like a normal boy would kiss a girl he liked. instead, he professes his protection when you make him promise again.

instead, he kisses you through the stretch of him entering you. “‘s okay, you got it. doin’ so good.” he could blow his load now, at the sight of you in pain and pleasure, at the sound of your hisses and deep breathes.

he slides home. inches deep inside you and even farther in your mind, he fucks both. he’s done this before, fucked a girl in a show of devotion that she’ll fawn over, a false bridge of vulnerability that he inwardly laughs at. it brings him satisfaction he can only get one other way.

you feel safe. safe as he pushes his hips against yours, his cock kissing and sliding against every electric spot inside you. his hand is warm on your cheek, cupping your face and the other is firm on your hip. you whine with each rock into you, body tingling, ears prickling as he groans in your ear. sounds he’s only ever heard on the other end of the phone.

with slow, calculated moves he makes you come again, and god it feels good. in the back of your mind you’re embarrassed, cause all it took was being afraid for your life and stu got you where you know he wanted you.

but stu’s been in this situation enough times to know what comes next, and how to prevent it. it’s easy, kissing you before you have the chance to keep thinking and fucking you to another orgasm.

it happens again the next night. battered and paranoid, you’re being played into his arms and you don’t even know it. you’re embarrassed about it, but in your clouded mind it feels genuine. it feels like stu really cares. at first it didn’t, but now that he’s still coming around even after he got you in bed, maybe he does care.

sidney comes home and stu goes back to his and billy's place. you think you can calm down with sidney back and stu and billy coming over occasionally. you let stu stay the night in your room sometimes, and he gets what he wants from you again.

your neighbor's killed. what the fuck, when will this end? this time, stu comes over, and he stays. you can't sleep a night without him. you think you're being targeted. the only time you feel peace is when stu's fucking your mind away. you’re reliant on him. in his absence all you feel is fear.

the phone calls continue, and stu’s there to answer them, telling whoever’s on the other end to go fuck themself. again, he plays you into his arms. “don’t think about him. think about me.” he tells you, guiding your face from the phone beside your bed to his, and he lets you close the gap. he likes letting you make the first move. it fills him with pride at his psychotic deception, the way he’s turned you into exactly what you said you’d never be.

he thinks about sneaking out to don the cloak, showing up at your doorstep just to see the horror in your eyes. he resigns to dialing your number when you’re out, calling you and listening to your voice as you realize who’s on the other line. he follows you out sometimes and watches your paranoid moves, blood coursing hot through his body every time you look over your shoulder.

at your house, he comforts you when you crumple into his arms, suggests that maybe, you shouldn’t go anywhere without him. you accept.

god, what have you become. if you’re not full of stu then you’re full of terror, and he takes pleasure being the bearer of both of these things. you belong to him, your thoughts, your body, your feelings, it all belongs to him.

he loves to hear you go over his and billy’s crimes over and over again, lives for the disgust and fear in your voice when you recount the murders. he could probably get off to it, to your sad little words. and at night, he revels in being the only one that can make you feel okay.

you’ve become the perfect victim, and he didn’t even have to flash his knife. maybe he’ll keep you around.

[so-long-soldier-writes]

Always & Forever

poly!mikaelsons x reader (kol, elijah, & rebekah)

summary: a slip of tongue confession leads to a world of trouble between the mikaelsons and the salvatores. but little do any of them know, it's exactly what was needed to promise a perfect future.

tags: smut, love confessions, mild exhibitionism, lingerie, blood drinking, begging, foursome (no incest), praise kink, choking, vaginal sex, oral sex, fingering, blowjobs, overstimulation, dirty talk, cuddling

word count: 6k

“I think my girlfriend is falling in love with my brother,” Kol says, with a look to each of the Salvatores, “but unlike you two, we’re actually quite capable of sharing women.”

Both scoff, and Stefan rolls his eyes. Damon takes a long sip of bourbon before smirking. “Prove it.”

Three days later, the brothers show up unannounced on the Mikaelsons’ porch, ready to find the proof themselves. Their conversation with Kol didn’t really end; the man just smiled and gave a wink, but didn’t offer any proof to his statement. He left the grill soon after that, too, convincing the Salvatores that he was just a cocky liar. Determined to prove their enemy wrong, they planned a surprise dinner in the other’s own house, specifically choosing a day they know you’ll be there. 

It’s a Sunday, and Klaus has been in New Orleans all weekend doing who-knows-what, leaving you alone with the other three siblings. You were originally a loyal friend of Elena’s, until she fell for Damon and you fell for Kol. Ever since then, your friendship has been in shambles and the two of you barely speak. The only reason the brothers were even talking to Kol about you is because you all ran into each other at the grill. You were playing pool with Elijah, while the younger watched from afar. Stefan and Damon approached to pester him about it, only to receive the answer they did.

Now, they were going to prove Kol wrong. They had been through this before with both Katherine and Elena. One woman cannot love both brothers; she will always pick one, and the two will become divided over it. It was only a matter of time for the jealousy to seep through, and neither brother could wait to see it happen. 

When they ring the doorbell, it’s Elijah who answers. “What may I help you with, brothers?”

Damon smirks, “we’ve decided to invite ourselves over for dinner. How does that sound?”

“And whatever has given you this idea?”

“Just a talk we had with your little brother the other day. Nothing bad, we promise.”

“Convincing,” he mutters, not at all convinced. “Well, I guess then, come in. I’ll find Kol.”

Kol isn’t hard to find. When Elijah walks into the living room, trailed by the Salvatores, he finds you and your boyfriend curled up together on the couch. Elijah clears his throat, grabbing both of your attentions. 

“Oh, look who it is - the less famous brothers,” Kol greets with an attitude. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

You don’t say anything, but tense up at the sight of the two. Neither have been pleased with you lately, and their sudden appearance can’t be anything good. 

“They have come by for dinner,” Elijah supplies. “Which, luckily enough, should be ready now.”

Just as he predicts, Rebekah comes into the room, hands in oven mitts. “Did I hear the Salvatores are coming over for dinner?” She looks over to them, “oh, and they’re already here. What fun. Y/N, darling, would you please help me carry the dishes to the table?”

You nod quickly, happy to get away from the men. 

“You make your sister cook for you?” Damon grunts as you and Bekah disappear. 

“No, no, we all take turns. Kol was yesterday. I have tomorrow.”

“But sometimes none of us do and we just sip on blood all night.”

“You feed Y/N blood, too?”

“Well she’s not here every night, unfortunately. But if she is here on a sipping-night, we’ll still make her something,” Kol says sternly, not liking Damon’s tone. 

Stefan decides that now is a good time to interrupt. “So what’s Rebekah making?”

“We’ll have to see. Shall we?”

Five minutes later, the six of you are sitting around the table enjoying a steak meal, just red enough to satisfy both vampires and human. The seat you’ve chosen has you between Kol and Rebekah and across from Damon and Stefan, while Elijah, per usual in Klaus’ absence, sits at the head. You can tell he likes sitting there; the head of the table always gives the sitter a feeling of power. Dominance. Like how he dominates the conversation despite Damon’s numerous attempts to try. 

“I was just curious about your brother’s whereabouts. What exactly is he doing in New Orleans?”

“It isn’t your place to know about what he’s doing, and frankly, I don’t know every little thing he does either. I’m not his babysitter.”

“But you’ve got to know something.”

“Who am I to tell? It’s not my business, nor yours.”

“So if-”

At this point, the three of you zone out entirely. You have been pestering Kol the whole dinner, but now you’re really starting to bug him, rubbing your foot up and down his leg. The action makes him squirm in his seat, which only encourages you further, and now Rebekah’s giggling at the both of you. In return, Kol lands a hand on your thigh, squeezing it ever so often. You then poke him in the side where you know he’s ticklish.

 Little do you know, Rebekah wants to join in, but doesn’t want to cross a line with her brother. Little does she know, you want her to join just as badly. 

Meanwhile, the discussion between the others is growing intense. Damon is getting more aggressive; Elijah, more defensive; and Stefan, more anxious. 

“This conversation isn’t going anywhere,” he tries, “maybe we should-”

“Klaus goes in and out of Mystic Falls way too often. I like to know where my enemies are, so if he would just stay in one place, that’d be great. He-”

Finally, Stefan cuts his brother off completely. “What I would like to know is if Kol’s words have any truth in them.”

The room silences immediately. 

“That’s why we’re here, right, brother?”

Damon stiffens at being interrupted, but then relaxes, a smirk on his face. “Yes, actually.”

“Whatever do you mean?” Elijah cocks his head. “Kol?”

“I don’t know what he’s talking about.”

“Oh sure you do? What was it? At the bar?”

“We go to the bar fairly often, Damon, you’ll have to be more specific.”

“You don’t remember? Y/N and Elijah were playing pool. You were watching, telling us what was on your heart…”

Kol raises his eyebrows before scoffing. “That.”

“Yes, that.”

“First of all, I wasn’t spilling my heart out to you two dumbasses. There was no heartfelt moment there.”

“Oh, really? I thought we were having a moment.” Damon frowns with a sad puppy dog look. Fake, of course. 

“You thought wrong then. I was only sharing an observation.”

“So? Is there any truth in what you said?”

Kol shifts uncomfortably, not liking being on the spot like this. 

“Aw, Damon, he’s shy. Let’s give him space.”

“No, hold up,” Kol stops them, “not shy about anything, I just don’t like to put my girl in situations like this.”

At the mention of you, you look up in question. 

“Well maybe you shouldn’t talk about ‘your girl’ when she’s not there to hear it.”

By now, Rebekah’s had enough, “whatever are you two daft dimbos on about? Kol would never do anything to hurt her. He loves her. Speaking of which, we all do, so you better not say anything bad.”

“Oh I bet you all do,” Damon smirks again. 

“Say what you want and be done with it,” Elijah tenses, “or get out.”

“You want to do the honors?” Damon turns to his brother.

“No, you’re good.”

“Alright.” He stands up as if he were making a speech. “Kol told us that he thinks his girlfriend over here, Miss Y/N, sweet little Y/N, is falling in love with his brother. Then he tried to tell us that you guys are good at ‘sharing women’.” The man laughs, “as someone who’s shared a woman with my brother, that never ends well. One, or all of you, are gonna be real sad when she either picks one and divides you from your family, or leaves you all and never looks back. So I say, pick your poison now, ‘cause it’s gonna happen someday.”

Damon sits back down looking very proud of himself. Kol, on the other hand, looks mortified. You, Bex, and Elijah have no idea what to do with that information. It’s dead quiet for too long. 

“Darling,” Kol finally says, “can I talk to you?”

“Of course.”

You leave the table with him, but no one picks up any conversation as you go. 

As soon as he gets to the kitchen, he runs the sink water so the vampires in the room over would have a harder time overhearing. He then puts his hands over his face and avoids eye contact with you. 

“Darling, I’m so sorry. I hadn’t meant for that to come out the way it did, nor to say it to those two, and I certainly didn’t expect for them to reiterate it straight back at you. I can’t believe I could be so stupid. I’m so sorry. I understand if you hate me for it. I-”

“Kol,” you call him for the fourth time during his rant. This time, though, you take his hands and make him look at you. “You’re not stupid.” He finally looks at you, but doesn’t reply. “And I don’t hate you. I could never hate you. You don’t have to apologize.”

“But I subjected you to their vile jokes. Made you look like a groupie or something to my family.”

You have to stop for a second and giggle. Of course, he’s immediately confused. “Why are you laughing?”

“Did you just use the term, ‘groupie’? That’s so seventies, Kol.”

“That’s what you’re worried about?”

“No, no, I’m just- I’m sorry. It was just funny to me.”

“What word was I supposed to use?”

You laugh again, “I don’t know.”

“Okay, well, I shouldn’t have used any word, because you’re not that, but I made you look like that to those bloody idiots.”

“Kol, it’s okay. I’m not upset with you. With them, yes, for doing that in front of everyone. But only for your sake, not my own. And besides, I can live with being an original groupie.”

He nods, hearing you’re not upset, but then narrows his eyes. “Wait…”

You swallow hard. “It’s not entirely wrong. I don’t like admitting it, but I’d be lying if I said there was nothing there.” You pause, giving him time to react. He only nods for you to continue. “I know Elijah’s liked me to some extent ever since we started dating. At first, I brushed it off, but the more I’m around you all, the more I find myself starting to like it.”

Not sure how to answer the latter, he starts with the first. “To some extent? Darling, he’s in love with you.”

You half smile, “I know.” 

“But?”

“I don’t know how to say this, Kol. It’s weird.”

In one fell swoop, he picks you up and sits you on the bare counter. He stands to be in between your legs, then cups your face with his hands. “It’s alright, Y/N. Tell me.”

“I love you. There’s no doubt about it. I would die for you.”

His heart races. Sure, he’s heard those words a thousand times, but each time, his heart acts the same way. “I love you, too, darling. Nothing you could say would make me love you less.”

“Good, because I don’t want to lose you. I want to love you for eternity. But… you’re right.” You take a deep breath. “I’m also falling for your brother.” 

Kol doesn’t seem fazed by this. If anything, he seems relieved. 

“Are you okay?”

“I was afraid you were going to say you wanted him instead.”

Your eyes go wide, “no! Baby, no way. But… if it’s something you’re okay with, I wouldn’t mind being an original groupie.”

He laughs at your choice of words. “That is certainly something I am okay with. You can love whomever you like. I’m just glad you still love me, too.”

“I will always love you, Kol.”

He kisses you deeply, bringing a hand to your back to steady you. “And I love you. And like I said, I am willing to share my girl if it makes her happy. Plus, I trust my brother to keep you and your heart safe.”

You smile, then bite your lip.

“What is it?”

“One more question.”

“Hm?”

“Do you trust your sister, too?”

“You’re in love with Bex, too?”

You can only shrug. A blush rises to your cheeks. 

He shakes his head playfully. “Of course I trust my sister. Let’s say this: I trust my family with my girl and her heart.”

“Sounds good,” you peck his lips, then his nose. 

“Soooo… do you want to go back out and prove to Damon and Stefan that my family can both share and protect women better than they can?”

“Certainly,” you pop off the counter with Kol’s hands on your waist. “And I can’t wait to see the look on Bex’s and ‘Lijah’s faces when I kiss them unexpectedly.”

You little troublemaker,” he grins as he turns off the faucet, “you fit into this family perfectly.”

◇◇◇◇

A chat about the weather is the only conversation happening when you re-enter the dining room. A big sigh of relief comes from everyone when they see you. 

“I hope you’re willing to pay the water bill next month, Kol, because that was a long time to have it running.”

“Relax, brother. Y/N and I were just having a little chat.”

“Oh really?” Damon smirks, “did she slap you for what you said about her? Because that would be well deserved.”

“On the contrary, Damon,” you say, returning to your chair. Kol sits in his, though you only stand behind yours. “It actually gave us time to talk about some things that probably wouldn’t have been brought up otherwise.” As you talk, you make your way to Elijah’s side, putting your hands on his shoulders. 

“Ah, and what would that be, Miss Y/N?”

You grin, “why talk about it when I can show you?” Before Damon can answer, you trail your fingers along the man’s face to his chin, feeling the stubble along his jaw. The group sees your eyes roll back in your head, then they watch you move to stand in front of him. “Hi,” you say, blushing mad.

He mouths, ‘what are you doing?’

You’re too giddy to answer; it’d probably come out in a stutter. So, you only smile instead. Then, bending slightly, you lean forward, grabbing and pulling on his tie in the process, and kiss him passionately. His body goes limp immediately, satiated by your kiss after wanting it for so long. The fact that you have him by his tie, dominating him just a bit, doesn’t help his case. Your other hand rises back to his jaw, holding him in place. After a second, the reality of the matter kicks in and he kisses back, bringing his own hands up to your face gently. 

Seated directly behind you are Kol and Bex, half of their attention on the scene, and half on the lingerie peeking out from under your skirt. Kol knows damn well you did that on purpose, and he feels himself getting hard at the thought. As for Rebekah, she’s conflicted. She’s not sure if she’s allowed to feel the warmth in her core that you’re making her feel, or if she’s allowed to steal a glance at the black garter adorning your thighs. She tries to poke her brother to ask, but every time she moves her finger, one of the Salvatores glance over to see the younger two’s reaction. 

After about a minute, you let go of Elijah and lick your lips. You then stand up and smirk at the brothers. “What would that be, you ask? Well, it gave me a chance to tell my loving boyfriend,” you’ve made your way back to Kol now. Once you’re behind him, you turn his head toward you with a finger on his chin, then kiss him with the same intensity. “That, not only do I love him, but also that I’m falling in love with his brother, as he suspected.” Then you grin again, “but what he didn’t know, but also just learned, is that I’m also falling in love with his sister, too.” After confessing, you bend over to kiss Rebekah as you did Elijah, with your lace set partially on display for the man. His eyes catch it instantly and become locked on you. Meanwhile, Kol, in touching distance, grabs onto your thigh. His hand almost disappears under your skirt completely. The sudden feeling makes you moan into Rebekah’s mouth, causing her to grab the back of your neck and kiss you harder. 

Eventually, a cough from Stefan pulls you out of the make-out session. You stop and take your seat back, though Kol’s hand doesn’t leave your body. 

“Wow,” he comments with nothing else to say. 

Damon, of course, has a reply. “Since you’re sharing, you can give us a kiss, too,” he mocks. 

“Nu uh,” you wiggle a finger, “I’m reserved for Mikaelsons only. Plus, I don’t think your girlfriend would like that too much.”

He rolls his eyes. “Only playing.”

“So,” Stefan starts, rather awkwardly. “Dinner was great, Rebekah. Was I wrong to assume you’d be serving dessert tonight, too?”

“Not entirely,” she stands, “I did make one for us. Though it seems you’ll be the only ones eating it, for I already had mine just now.”

She’s on her way to the kitchen when you chuckle, “there’s no way that filled you up, Bex. That was just an appetizer. Trust me, dessert’s way better.” You give her a wink. 

The girl’s knees nearly give out. “Is it now?”

You’re about to answer when a squeak leaves your lips instead. Kol’s moved his hand from your thigh to having a finger on your clit. He puts the lightest bit of pressure on it, then says, “she’s right, sister. Dessert’s much better.”

Rebekah goes completely red and hurries to the kitchen to hide her face. Elijah, on the other hand, swallows hard. He’s not sure how he feels about doing something like this with the Salvatore brothers watching. He knows that Kol is, and always has been, rather wild, but this? And if he’s going to be allowed to touch and pleasure you for the first time, he doesn’t want them there. Nor should they be so honored to see your body unclothed; that should be a sight only for those chosen by you. 

Elijah’s tempted to pull Kol aside and bring up these concerns, but that would require leaving you alone with the Salvatores. That is something he’d much rather not do. Luckily, Rebekah comes back just in time. 

“For you two, who don’t get to share the beautiful Y/N,” she smirks. “Please, feel free to take it home with you so we can get on with private business here.”

Elijah relaxes at her words, but then stiffens again at Damon’s. 

“Oh no, we were promised that you could maintain a four way relationship and not fight. We are going to see this through.”

“That was never included, Damon,” Kol snaps, “all you were promised was that we could, not that you could see it. All you’re allowed to see of my girl is what she allows you to see.”

“Your girl?”

“Don’t push it. You’ve already pushed it by welcoming yourselves here anyway. And yes, she is my girl. Just because she shares her love doesn’t mean she’s not still my girl.”

“How do you feel about that?” The man nods to you. “A family of vampires sharing you?”

You giggle as Kol pulls you into his lap. “I don’t know if this has escaped you, Damon, but I gave in before either of these two did. I love them all as much as they do me.”

“Until you fall more in love with one and break the rest of their hearts.”

“I am not Katherine. I’m fully capable of loving them without hurting them. Just you see,” you challenge, a glint in your eyes. 

The brothers look to Elijah, knowing he’s been through the ringer with Katherine as well. To their dismay, he’s smiling. “The girl is right. She isn’t Katherine. She has a similar fire, yet is much more kind. Maybe if you two had been so lucky to stumble upon her first, you’d learn that not all women are like Katherine.” Before Damon can argue, he continues, “fortunately for us, and rather unfortunately for you, she’s ours.”

Stefan’s about to comment, but then he sees you smirking. The glint in your eyes, still apparent, and sharp like a dagger, as if daring him to try to convince you otherwise. At that moment, he decides it’s not even worth it to try. He turns towards his brother. “Well. Guess we have to let them figure it out on their own.”

“Guess so.”

Not long after that, the Salvatores are finally out the door, Rebekah’s pies in hand. Damon makes it very clear that if he isn’t allowed to see the action, that he is certainly taking the dessert he is allowed to have. And, he isn’t going to make any effort in returning Rebekah’s pans, either. 

“Whatever, don’t care about the pans, go away,” you say, pushing them out the door. “Bye now!” You lock it the minute they’re out. Then, you turn around to face the three vampires looking at you. “Hi.”

“Hello, darling. Quite a pickle you’ve found yourself in,” Kol smiles at you. 

Rebekah takes a step towards you. “Are you sure you can handle all three of us, love? It is a lot to handle.” She seems more like she’s challenging you into submission rather than actually asking you the question. You’ve proven you want all of them, now it’s just a matter of seeing if you can catch up. 

Your answer is on the tip of your tongue - an equally sassy reply that will tell her everything she needs to know. But then Elijah approaches you with a comment before you can say it.

“Maybe we should talk about this first. Y/N-”

“Oh, enough talking,” you walk over to him, “haven’t we been talking all night?”

His lips curl into a smile, “guess we have. Is this really what you want?”

“Yes, ‘Lijah.”

“Then you shall have it.”

You give three seconds. Three seconds to search his eyes for any hesitation. Three seconds for anyone to speak up with a counter. Nothing. Not a second after is wasted as you rise to your toes to kiss him again. He kisses back deeply, tapping your waist for you to jump. He holds you in place with strong arms, fighting everything to not push you up against the wall. He knows if he does, his siblings will protest.

The protest comes anyway. 

“Elijah, you’re stealing the girl,” Rebekah whines. 

With a sigh, he speeds you over to the nearest room and sets you down on the bed. As he catches his breath from the adrenaline, Rebekah wastes no time rushing to you and peppering you in kisses. Kol’s not far behind, laying you down the minute Bex comes up for air. Your head rests in his lap while he plays with your hair. Elijah quickly comes back into play, feeling the fabric that is the only thing separating them from seeing you wholly. You make eye contact and nod to him, and instantly, your clothes are torn from your body.

“Gorgeous,” you hear him mutter, running his hands from your stomach down your legs.

“Say,” Kol snickers, “what about this lingerie, darling? Was that on purpose?”

You bite your lip, “knew I’d get you by the end of the night. Didn’t think this would happen.” You nestle your head into him, “but I’m not complaining.”

He grins, “was a lovely surprise to a boring dinner.”

“I’ll second that,” Rebekah bounces her eyebrows at you, making you giggle. 

“Kol,” Elijah calls to his brother. 

You and the boy look up. 

“Switch places. She’s been with you, knows you best. For her first time with all three of us, let’s give her something familiar.”

The boy nods, and you’re secretly thankful for the man’s suggestion. As much as you’re loving this, it’s all very new, and something familiar is greatly appreciated.  

“Thank you,” you mutter to Elijah as he takes Kol’s spot in supporting your head. 

“Of course, baby. I love you.”

You smile, “I know. I love you, too.”

“You know? How, may I ask?”

“I’ve known since the minute I met you.”

His eyes soften from shock as everything sinks in. You knew he loved you, yet you were dating his brother. But now, they both have you, and Bex, too. Bex, who, at the moment, is giving you a hickey on the neck. 

Elijah realizes this and immediately chides, “don’t bite her, Rebekah.”

“Relax, it’s only a hickey. People do it all the time.”

You giggle, “it’s true, ‘Lijah. But I don’t mind if you bite. Kol’s fed from me.”

“He has?” The girl stops her ministrations to read your face.

“Mhm. I trust him, and eventually, he started to trust himself.”

“Who are you and what have you done with my brother?” She jokes.

“I’m right here, Bekah.”

“You’ve fed from her?” She asks again, still shocked. 

“Show her, Kol,” you smile up at him. During the last minute of your conversation with the two, he’s been teasing your entrance with his cock, making sure you’re wet enough to fit comfortably. 

He bites his lip, debating it, but can’t say no to your face. “Alright, darling. Count of three.” He lines himself up, then covers your body with his own, positioning his teeth right at your neck. “3… 2… 1.” At one, he sinks his teeth in and pushes his cock into your heat at the same time. Your eyes roll back into your head with pleasure as he begins to rock inside you, finding a pace. Kol only drinks for a few seconds before detaching, because he knows Bex will want to try too, if you’ll let her. 

“Not long enough, baby,” you say immediately. 

“Give Bekah a try,” he nods to his sister, sitting back up. 

Rebekah’s still in shock at her brother’s self control, but snaps out of it when you give her the ‘okay’. 

“‘Lijah, you too.”

“I shouldn’t.”

“I need it,” you beg. 

“She’ll beg you all night,” Kol warns. “Better to give in than deny what you know you both want.”

The argument is convincing. Elijah gives in, taking your wrist. At the same time, he and Bex bite down - her at the other side of your neck - and begin to drink. Kol slows his pace as they do, taking a minute to look into your eyes. I love you, he mouths. You mouth it back. 

Seconds later, they come off, too. Elijah wastes no time bringing his own blood to your lips, healing your wounds completely. 

“Thank you,” you smile at him. 

“Mhm, thank you, girl,” Rebekah interrupts, “you’re bloody amazing.”

Elijah returns your smile, nodding to you. 

As soon as you meet his eyes, Kol picks up his pace again until he finds the one you usually like. Though Bex beats him to rubbing your clit, so he uses both hands to hold onto your waist instead. Elijah takes to kissing you hungrily, his hands digging into your scalp. You’re so overstimulated with pleasure, yet it feels so good. 

After a bit of this, you start to pant, running out of breath.

“What do you like, baby?” Elijah asks, not wanting to tire you out with kisses. 

“Play with her boobs,” Kol suggests, “makes her crazy.”

“Does it now?”

“She’s cum just by me sucking on them at times.”

“Kol!” You whine.

“Don’t get shy now, darling! Little late for that, don’t you think?”

You shut your mouth tight as the three smirk at you. Elijah then repositions his body to sit more to your side, giving him better access to your chest. He makes sure to put a pillow under your head where he had been sitting, then wastes no time playing with your tits, holding, cupping, and squeezing them. The feeling is so good it makes you bite your lip hard enough to draw blood. 

“Darling,” Kol mutters, swiping your lip and putting his finger in his mouth, “don’t hold back your pretty little sounds from them. Let them hear what I get to hear from you.” As soon as he says that, he pounds into you hard without warning. You cry out in a strangled moan before you can stop yourself. “Just like that, yes,” he praises. “Good girl.”

Bex immediately picks up on how you react to Kol’s praise and tries it for herself. “Hey, girlie, can you do that for me, pretty please?” She puts more pressure on your clit, touching you exactly how you like. 

“Awh,” you moan, “like that, keep doing that. Feels so good, Bex. I- I’m close.”

Meanwhile, Elijah’s transitioned from using hands to using his mouth to stimulate your breasts. He tugs on a nipple with his teeth while pulling the other between his fingertips. 

“Fuck, ‘Lijah. Shit. I- I-” whatever you were going to say is cut off by another moan. This spurs the man on, Bex too, and they continue at their paces. 

You then turn your attention to Kol. “Right- right there. Perfect. Close. I’m close. Kol?”

“Yes, darling?”

“Cum with me, okay? Please, please, please.” You know begging will do it instantly. Another thing that will make you both cum fast- “and here,” you point to your neck. “Please.”

“Which one?”

“Pick.”

“You pick this time.”

“Kol, I can’t.”

“Can I put them up to the challenge?”

You nod ferociously, desperate for anything. 

“Choke or bite, she wants.”

The siblings go still. Neither feel good about choking you, and they’ve already fed. 

“Kol, please,” you beg again, “I’m so close.”

“Okay, darling.” He thrusts deeper to crawl back across your body, then holds you in place by the neck as you get closer to your high. In the midst, Bex continues her pleasure on you, while Elijah keeps at his. Then, mere seconds later, you cum hard. A string of curse words that ends as a moan falls out of your mouth. Black spots cloud your vision, due to Kol’s hands on your neck, or the overstimulation, or both, you’re not sure, but you love it. You whine all the way through your orgasm, legs shaking and heart beating rapidly. Shortly after you, Kol cums too, and it takes everything in him not to collapse onto your body. After the two of you ride out your highs, everyone begins to ease up in their pleasuring. 

“Not done,” you pant, out of breath still. You crawl up a little ways on the bed to lean against the headboard and its numerous pillows.

“What do you mean, ‘not done’? Girl, I’d think you’d be tired,” Bex says, incredulous. 

You answer her by slipping your hand into her pants, feeling for her heat, and inserting a finger. You then unzip her jeans for better access, making her melt instantly. 

“Fuck, Y/N,” she whines. When you curl your fingers, she moans louder.

Once you have her where you want her, you move your other hand to the man beside you, rubbing his hard-on through his suit pants. “‘Lijah, come here.”

“You don’t have to pleasure me, baby, I’m alright.”

“Again,” Kol interrupts, “she’ll beg you all night if you don’t let her.”

You smirk up at Elijah, proving Kol’s words true. The man tries to fight it, but desire takes over him. He’s slow to pull himself out, still a bit unsure. You gesture him closer and closer until you’re able to pleasure both him and Bex at the same time. 

“I’d rather you straddle my head, ‘Lijah, so I can get you wet, and more comfortable,” you say in between breaths. The man goes red in the face. Never have you ever seen Elijah embarrassed. Neither, apparently, have his siblings. 

Bex grins, “brother! You’ve gone shy to Y/N’s dirty talk! I wouldn’t believe it if I wasn’t seeing it.”

You giggle, the girl egging you on now, “I promise it would be much better. Come on.”

Again, he hesitates, but ultimately gives in. You smile as he moves in front of you, not exactly straddling you, but comes at least close enough that you can take him in your mouth. Immediately, you circle your tongue over his tip, sucking slightly in certain places. He lets out a breathy moan which makes you crave him more. Soon, you find a vein on his underside that is especially sensitive, so you tease him by dragging your tongue along it, before finally taking him in full once he’s wet enough. 

When you find your pace with Elijah, you refocus your attention back to Rebekah, continuing the curling of your fingers, but also stimulating her clit. You’d love to put your tongue on her, too, but in its absence, you move your fingers inside her instead. Wetness drips from her, pooling onto the bed. Hers, thankfully. She rocks her hips against your hand, holding onto your hip for support. Little whines leave her lips, one after another.

Meanwhile, Kol’s attention is on your clit, driving you to overstimulation yet again. He flicks his tongue against it while keeping two fingers buried inside you. It’s only a matter of time before you all explode from the intense pleasure. If you weren’t so distracted, you’d probably place a bet on it. 

Not two minutes later do the second round of orgasms come, and they do in quite a domino effect. Kol blows cool air on your clit and immediately, it sends you into pleasure. You start shaking again, well beyond satiated. Bex is then triggered by your orgasm, having her own not a second after, and having it be just as intense. Her mess is made bigger, cum obvious on the sheets, and she can’t help but giggle. Bex giggling causes the same reaction out of you, to which Elijah’s final stimulation is the vibration from your mouth, and he has his own orgasm. He tries to pull out, but a shared look of eye contact comforts him, knowing you’re okay with it. Once you’ve swallowed it, you loosen your suction from his cock and allow him to pull out completely. He can’t help but to kiss you when you open your mouth to prove it’s all gone. 

As soon as you all come down from your highs, one-by-one you collapse on the bed, exhausted. Bex and Elijah are on your sides, while Kol’s between your legs, his head on your chest. 

“That was,” Elijah pauses, catching his breath.

“Perfect,” Rebekah finishes for him. 

“Quite the girl she is,” Kol says, kissing your tits. 

“Need to take care of her back,” Elijah tries to get up. 

You hold him down, though, “no, no, stay with me. We do that later. Cuddle for now.”

“Y/N-”

“No, we cuddle for now. I need that more.”

“Okay, baby. We’ve got you.” He settles back down into your side, letting out a long, peaceful sigh.

A second later, a camera snaps. 

“Who’s that?” Everyone peers an eye open, except for the one who’s guilty.

“Whoops, sorry.” Kol smirks, “going to send Damon proof that not only are we capable of sharing, but also, that we have the best bloody girlfriend in the world.” 

“You’re such a little shit,” you ruffle his hair because he’s too out of reach to kiss. “But I love you. I love all of you.”

“I love you, too, darling.”

“Me too,” Bex yawns.

“We will love you, Y/N, always and forever.”

And you all did love each other, always and forever. 

[spoilmesweetieforficssake]

Coming To An Understanding #5

I admit that this little series is entirely self indulgent, but I hope you also enjoy it. I'm hoping to have the next two parts ready to post tomorrow.

I am still working on completing the other prompts I have from you lovely people and will post as and when I'm able to finish them.

~ Previous ~

“What about you guys?” asks Janine.  “Any plans this weekend?”

“We’re headed to the museum and then when it cools down in the afternoon we’re having a picnic,” you happily inform her, flashing a smile in Melissa’s direction.  The red head has remained largely quiet during the discussions of everyone’s plans for the weekend, but that in itself is nothing new.  You know she likes to keep her private life private, but it’s not like the two of you are any sort of a secret, and it’s a conversation you’ve had a number of times now.  So long as you’re not giving away any sordid details, or letting slip how secretly soft she really is, she’s happy for you to share.

It’s only as the other’s begin to file out and you turn to find Melissa looking at you with an odd expression that you think anything more of her silence.  “What’s up?”

“Was my idea for this weekend lame?” she finally asks.  She had sat listening to everyone else discuss their weekend plans, and while you had seemed happy to tell everyone of your plans, she worries they’re not exactly exciting in comparison. 

“No, not lame in the least,” you smile.  “I’m looking forward to this weekend.”  You step forward, pressing a kiss to her cheek.  “Long as you don’t flirt with the museum guide again.”

“I didn’t flirt with her!”

*

“I feel like we keep doing the things I want.”

You look up at Melissa from your spot on the picnic blanket.  With the sun in her hair, she looks better than any of the art you’ve seen in the museum.

“You’re deciding this time,” she informs you, her tone very much no nonsense.  “What are we doing next weekend?”  She braces for your answer, waiting for you to say something young and energetic and wondering where her sports bra is.  She watches as you take a moment to think, your gaze far away, but your fingers tracing the seam on her jeans.  A smile slowly creeps across your face and she finds she’s almost holding her breath.

“Okay.  I want a Melissa Schemmenti guided tour of the Boardwalk, complete with running commentary.”

The red head frowns.  “What?”

“I love your stories about the Boardwalk,” you grin.  “I want the live version.”

Melissa continues to look down at you oddly, her brain and her heart not quite sure how to react to your request.  “Seriously, that’s what you want?”

She gave you absolutely free reign and that’s what you choose?  A day with her, listening to her talk?

You shift on the picnic blanket, shimmying so you can lay your head on her thigh, looking up at her.  “Yup.  I mean, maybe lunch too, but we can decide on that when we’re there?”

Melissa feels her cheeks heat up in a blush as she looks down at you, reaching out to card her fingers through your hair.  You look genuinely happy with your suggestion.  Smiling at the prospect of a day where you’re not doing anything big and exciting, but a day where you get to wander around with her.  She’s what you want.  She’s enough to make you smile like that.  Finally, she returns your smile.  “The Boardwalk it is then.”

[softxsuki]

Hey, congrats on your new milestone! I was hoping to participate in your event if that’s okay! Could I do your song drabble one with ‘Figure You Out’ by VOILÀ with Gojo from JJK. GN!Reader please! It would be great if you could include the line ‘I could love you with my eyes closed’ ‘Kiss you with a blindfold’ ‘Figure you out (mm-mmh)’ romantic with fluff please! Thank you!

1.5k Follower Event Song Drabble "Figure You Out" With Gojo (JJK)

This event is now closed. You can view the masterlist here.

| Pairing: Gojo x Gn!Reader| Genre: fluffish | Post-Type: Drabble | Word Count: 970 |

Warnings: slight swearing, y/n's date neglecting them

Note: Happy first day of October :3 Finally it's starting to cool down a lot and I'm living for it. It's already midnight, I was busy all weekend long so I forgot it was Monday, aka, my posting day. Thankfully I wrote this one in advance, so it only needed to be edited a bit and posted :D. Hope you enjoy!

Gojo was pissed, beyond pissed as you dragged him with you to introduce him to the guy you’d been talking to for a few weeks now. As your best friend, it was mandatory for him to get to know the guys you dated, but he already hated this one based on the things you had shared with him.

He was selfish and never took the time to figure you out; never cared enough to do things you liked to do or go to restaurants that you liked, oblivious to anything that interested you. Currently the three of you were seated at a table at a restaurant with food you couldn’t even eat, yet you quietly sat beside your date, looking through the menu to see if you could find anything that caught your eye.

“They can’t eat this food,” Gojo says flatly, not even bothering to look through the menu, a bored expression on his face as he finally gets the chance to see the guy who was absolute trash. The guy who stole his chance to finally confess to you after years of crushing on you and just as he was about to risk it all and ask you out, this guy had come out of nowhere and whisked you away.

“They’re literally looking through the menu, stop speaking for them man,” the guy rolls his eyes, already set on what he wanted since he was a regular at this place.

Gojo glares at him as you awkwardly glance between them, before Gojo abruptly stands up and drags you off with him. The guy tries to grab him to stop him, but can’t even touch him because of Gojo’s infinity, as the white haired man wordlessly takes you where your date can’t hear.

“Why are you putting up with that piece of shit?” He huffs, releasing your arm once they both of you are far away from your date.

“He’s not that bad…” you sigh, knowing the words leaving your mouth were lies. The man you really wanted was the white haired one right in front of you,  but he was your best friend, there was no way he felt the same for you.

“‘Not that bad’ my ass, he’s done nothing but think of himself the second we entered this place. There’s not a damn thing on this menu that you like. He should know that by now! Or does he just not care enough to even ask what you like? I’m sure you’ve spoken about yourself to him, that's how dating works, but he hasn’t remembered anything you’ve told him, has he?” He grits, extremely worked up by this.

“He’s all I have, Satoru. I’ve had so much bad luck with dating, I can’t just dump him for something as small as forgetting the foods I like or don’t like. I need to at least give him more time to see if he’s worth it…” you sigh, leaning back against the wall.

“You don’t need to do anything! Do you even actually like this guy?” 

You pause for a moment. You felt bad that this guy was more of a way for you to try and get over your best friend who you couldn't imagine liking you back. “I- I’m still getting to know him…”

Bull. It was a load of bull.

Gojo, grabs your chin and tilts it up so you’re looking at him, taking a deep breath of courage.

“Leave him and be with me,” he says confidently, his heart hammering in his chest. He had never been so nervous in his entire life, if you didn’t feel the same way, then him saying this would ruin your friendship, but he needed to tell you.

Your eyes widen in shock, unsure if what you heard was real or not.

“Satoru wh-” he cuts you off before you can even finish speaking.

“Shut up and just listen for a second. I know everything about you, your favorite color, the facial expressions you make when you’re happy and upset, every subtle eyebrow move–I know it all. I know you like the back of my hand and remember every detail you’ve ever told me. You know why? Because I’m in love with you, dammit. I’ve been in love with you for years now, but have been too scared to say anything,” eh says, looking straight into your eyes.

“I could love you with my eyes closed, kiss you with my blindfold and figure you out. I may have the six eyes, but I don’t need them to figure out the things you love, or the way you prefer things. Drop that guy, and give that chance to me. I’ll treat you better,” he whispers slowly, dropping his hands from your chin, his blindfold raised, exposing his beautiful blue eyes so you can see the truth in them.

“Yeah, let's do it,” you say finally, surprising him and yourself.

“What?” He asks in shock, taking a step back and leaning against the opposite wall, one of his hands rising to touch his forehead.

“Let’s do it. You’re not the only one who’s been silently longing to be together. I love you too…I just didn’t think you’d be into me like that. With your history with women and all…” you groan.

“Yeah, but you’re you. How could I not love you?” He smirks. “Let’s ditch this loser, just text him that you’re done with him. I’ll take you somewhere you’d actually love.”

And that sounded perfect to you as you quickly message your date that it wasn’t working out, as the both of you sneak out the back door, hopping into Gojo’s car as he drives you to your favorite restaurant (which was a lot more fancy and nice for a date than the fast food place your other date had taken you to).

Posted: 10/1/2024

[dumbass-hyperfixations]

not to be a lowkey cheating apologist, but they should totally go with the psych shawn spencer and juliet o’hara getting together storyline for setting up buck and eddie canon (especially that kiss in the ep before shawn and juliet get together)

let’s say that eddie gets the feelings realization arc, and just as he’s debating telling buck or no, tommy calls him up with a “i know it’s crazy and we haven’t been dating very long, but i think i wanna marry buck. i’m thinking of taking him on a weekend getaway and proposing, thoughts?” and eddie is so shocked that he can’t really do much but choke out an awkward “yeah man, that’s great. congrats”

so he decides he’ll keep his feelings his business and his business alone (and maybe cry on hen and karen’s shoulders about it). and then chris calls. he wants to come home. and he forgets all about the weekend getaway proposal plan, rushes to buck’s loft to tell him the good news. and finds buck packing. right. the getaway. the surprise proposal.

and buck asks, very cheerfully what’s up. and eddie decides to swallow the news about chris down, so buck wouldn’t cancel the getaway and come with him to el paso (because buck would and eddie wants him to, but damnit, buck deserves to be happy and he deserves the nice proposal tommy has planned). so he just says that he came to say goodbye. and has a speech, not unlike the one shawn had (if you haven’t watched psych, go at least watch that scene with their first kiss because it’s the shit), about how much fun buck is gonna have, and how happy, sincerely happy he is that he’s got tommy, and that he better take all the pictures of the nature and to do all the research on every bird and tree because he’ll be waiting to hear all about it when they get back. but, fuck, he lets too much of his true feelings show on his face, because he feels like he’s saying his forever goodbye to buck, and to the fact that he’ll never have him. and buck sees it, we see the slow realization dawning on his face the longer eddie speaks. and in the middle of eddie’s rambling, he surges forward and kisses him and it’s the most desperate, long time coming kiss we’ve ever seen—

and then we hear tommy enter through the door, calling out to buck. they immediately jump apart. try to steady their breathing, try to not look insane over what just happened.

tommy comes to the living room (or upstairs to the bedroom? somewhere where they’re not immediately in sight) and absolutely does not pick up on the heavy tension, smiling at them both, hugging buck and kisses his cheek, immediately jumping into small talk. eddie wishes them both the best of luck and a nice trip, and makes a auick getaway, avoiding buck’s sad pleading eyes. and then he goes get christopher. episode ends with them getting into their respective cars to drive to opposite directions, and we lose our collective minds lost at the cliffhanger.

[thatone-brightstar]

The Bear & The Fox (Carmy Berzatto x Fem!Reader)

Chapter 11: Collateral Damage

Words: 5.8k

Summary: It's been a month since your breakup with Carmy and Syd wouldn't ask for your help unless they were absolutely slammed.

a/n: 1 more chapter + epilogue to go and I don't know what to do with myselffff!!!!

Thank you for sticking around thus far and commenting is always appreciated!

Heartbreak is a funny little thing. You can walk a delicate line all your life to avoid feeling it, but one way or another it’ll find you. It’s the eternal debate: To avoid all and spare yourself from hurt, but live a life of emptiness and quiet; or to welcome the pain like an old friend, at peace and knowing you never stopped trying. Everyone chooses a side at some point, but you’re never really spared from it. 

You’ve always hated the part of you that feels too deeply. The one that created stories out of strangers, wonder struck by microseconds of eye contact, then shattered when they step off the train. The one that no matter how many times was dolefully blown into the ground, it still believes in good grace and  happy endings.

“So yeah… That’s basically it since the last time I saw you.” You say, twirling the small ring with the aquamarine stone that you had stopped wearing long ago. You look up to the woman sitting across from you and ask “What? You asked me how I was.”

“And I wasn’t expecting a two hour monologue.”

“Well what did you expect? Haven’t seen you in months, I needed to vent…” You fight back.

You can hear the soft scribbles of her pen for a couple minutes and you make yourself comfortable against the soft pillows that fill up most of her couch.

“So, how long has it been?” She speaks again.

“Bout a month…” You sigh.

“And have either of you tried reaching out?”

“No, I-” You take a breath and ponder over the question, the single unanswered text weighing heavy on your phone. “I wouldn’t know what to say. Besides, I’ve been too busy with my paintings and helping out with the auction. I don’t really have time for… anything else. I-I guess he’s been busy too.” 

“But you still know what he’s up to?” She asks with raised brows.

You shrug with a single shoulder and chew at your thumbnail with slight nerves. “Syd talks about work sometimes, when we go out. But I think she kinda feels guilty for bringing him up. I told her it’s fine.” The woman looks at you skeptically through the small circular glasses. “I’m fine.” You half lie. “I am, it's just… The auction is this weekend and they’re catering so… I don’t really know how I’m supposed to feel…”

“Because you’ll see him again?”

“...Yeah.”

The woman calls your name again and you rip your eyes from the ring on your finger, heavy inside your own head to hear her question.

“So, is your set finished?” She asks to change the conversation.

“Mhm. It only took me a couple weeks to finish but -” Your smile curls slowly at the edge of your lips. “I'm really proud of them.”

“That’s great to hear.” She whispers with a genuine smile. “You know, heartbreak can also be a beautiful thing. It’s painful, yes, but it also gives a vulnerability we don’t regularly allow ourselves. It lets us create wonderful things. It’s all part of the human experience. It truly is nice to know you’re doing better, even after going MIA for months.” She says with a practiced tone mothers use to scold you.

She schedules you in for the next month and you promise to not bail this time, then walking out the office with your bag over your shoulder and a lightweight heart. The prospect of seeing him at the auction is still heavy on your mind as you make your way to the train station and the simple thought fills your chest like a crisp breath of air. ‘He could just send Syd’ you think and you try to not engage too much with the idea in fear that it may sour your good mood.  Instead you focus on your steady steps and people watching, ‘whatever happens, happens.’ you mumble under your breath.

**********

Syd’s call had pulled you from the comfort of your home before the sun was even visible over the horizon. Her worried tone had you waking up instantly and darting frantically around your darkened room in search of anything that could shield you from the increasing cold, then out the door and in the dreaded direction of The Beef. 

It’s been a month since you last spoke with Carmy and even though in the grand scheme of time, it’s only a mere speck of dust, to you it had felt eternal. Small snippets blur together into one long strenuous day, piggy-backing off your grief and pushing your shoulders deeper into the ground. You had called him a few days after in hopes that you could talk things over, but it went straight to voicemail. So you left a text that you anxiously waited an answer for the following days. All of a sudden, one week turned into two, then three and before you knew it, a month had gone by without a response. You kept busy picking up most of the planning to avoid any crossing thought of him, only allowing yourself to break with your canvas in front and acrylics to spear. 

You had done enough to convince yourself you were fine, that even if he were to show up tomorrow and not send Syd on his behalf, you'd be fine. 

Fine. Fine. Fucking fine. 

Everything was fucking fine until this morning when Syd had called to ask for help at the restaurant. Richie had been arrested, the place was a mess and they were behind on prep for the event tomorrow because they were lacking hands. Protesting would only lose you time that they did not have, so in place of that you settle to ignore the treacherous wormhole vacuuming out the few remains of confidence you had saved for tomorrow as you wait for the train that’ll leave you on River North Station.

Twenty three minutes later, you're walking at a brisk pace through the streets with a thick knot for a stomach and a growing unease. You push through the door and stop in your tracks at the shock and disarray of the place.

“What the fuck? Ugh-” 

The potent smell of alcohol is the first thing that invades your nose, along with the stickiness of the floor the deeper you walk into the room. There’s solo cups scattered everywhere and half working Christmas lights hanging loosely over the walls. Some frames from the front wall lay broken, spewing shards of glass all around the tiles.

“Mi amor, qué sorpresa!” You hear Tina’s voice from behind the counter and you slowly walk towards her, the small pieces shattering under the weight of your boots.

She hugs you tight and kisses your cheek. “Tina, what the hell happened in here?! It smells like the fuckin’ Hangover…”

“Ay baby, don’t even get me started with these knuckleheads-”

You take another woeful look around, then follow her inside as she recounts the little information Sydney gave them from the frantic phone call she had with Carmen. How they rented out The Beef for a bachelor’s and Richie had knocked out some drunk while defending Carmen’s ass. It’s strange to you, the pair’s relationship. How they were always ready to rip each other to pieces, but would jump to save the other without a second thought. They said they couldn’t stand one another, but you’re sure they’re something either can’t live without.

“So what, he’s in for aggravated assault?” You ask.

“Only if the guy wakes up.” Marcus answers with a broom in hand, sweeping away remnants of glitter and tinsel.

“And if he doesn’t?”

“Could be 5 to 25 for accidental manslaughter…” Sweeps chimes in while carrying a full trash bag to the back.

Your throat closes up and behind your concern, you hear Marcus ask Sweeps how he knows so much about the matter. ‘Bro, I told you. I went to Harvard Law…’ ‘Oh yeah…’

You breathe in  deep while maintaining the possibility of his release still in your mind and you head to Syd’s side, pulling your hair up into a ponytail automatically. 

“Alright, brigade’s here. What d’you need?” You say after a quick hug hello.

“Guess you know more about it than I do…”

She’s flipping through the binder with all the recipes and images of the canapes they’d be serving, the one you helped Carmy assemble all those months back. Despite a few scribbles and notes at the foot of some recipes, it’s practically the same. You bend the corner lightly on the last page to find the miniature ‘C’ surrounded by purile hearts and your morning coffee grows knotty in your gut.

“Is he…” You try asking, but the sentence loses power half way through.

Syd seems to catch your drift. “No, no. He’s been down at the station since dawn.”

You nod absentmindedly with your eyes glued to the page. 

“Okay, um. Marcus left the sourdough for the tapas rising all night yesterday, so we have a good start on that-” Syd began and you pull all your attention to the task at hand. “Beef’s already bracing in the oven but it’ll take a couple more hours. You can start with the ginger- tangerine compote. That’ll go on the brie.” She says, handing you one of the blue aprons. 

“Alright, heard.” The words feel unnatural rolling off your tongue after being away from a kitchen for so long.

She leaves you in search of Fak, urging him to finish fixing the backed up sink in the Steward section. You drown out the bicker and hastily make your way into the walk-in, throwing the apron over your head and tying the back securely around your waist. It’s almost as if the familiar pressure unveils a dormant sensation and you soon find yourself navigating with ease through the skills you thought forgotten. The knife feels at home under your palm -heftier than a paint brush but still requires the same level of  concentration- as you separate the tangerine supremes and add them to the pot holding clarified butter, sugar and rosemary leaves. Everyone works in a rhythmic but comfortable silence, a stark difference from the frantic, unmeasured mess they seemed to thrive in when you still worked here. 

“Yo chef?” Marcus calls from your left. 

You lift your head to him while you finish peeling the ginger. “What's up?”

“Mind tasting this for me? It’s for the gig but somethin’ bout the filling don’t feel right…”

You nod and wipe your hands on your rag, then take a bite into the miniature stuffed doughnut that doesn’t seem bigger than an Oreo. The flavors are too thick to tell them apart but  the softness of the dough allows it to almost melt in your mouth. 

“The dough’s perfect-“ You say between bites, the compliment blooming over his face into a grin. “How bout a different filling though, there’s a lot going on and you can’t really enjoy the texture.”

“Right!? See, that’s what I was thinkin’. Got anything in mind?”

“Mmm, you could try a chai cream filling.”

“Just milk and cinnamon, then?”

“Yes and also no” You answer with a smile. “Try to steep some black tea in milk with cinnamon and ginger. Then instead of sugar, add honey to your crème and the chai milk. It should be a little bit more runny so when it cools it doesn’t get that jelly-like consistency from the egg.” You finish then turn back to peeling off the skin of the ginger with your spoon. 

Marcus is still standing beside you with a pleased smile. “You really know your stuff, huh? Thought you was burnt out.” and you lightly hit him over the arm with the back of your spoon. 

“Oh, I can totally smoke your ass baker boy..” You grin.

Before he can fight back, a sudden commotion by the entrance has you lifting your head above the second level of the table and searching for the noise. The slick handle of the spoon  almost slips past your hand when your eyes capture the image of two very sleep deprived Carmen and Richie walking through the staff door. You can see everyone showering them with attention, how Tina hugs Richie tight then smacks him hard over the head, but the loud ringing in your ears and the sudden rush of cold blood prevent you from moving any closer. Not that you’d want to anyway. You try to pull yourself together, wiping your clammy hands for the tenth time and watching them advance deeper into the room. Richie’s the first to spot you and true to his nature, he lets the whole room know that he’s seen you, with outstretched palms in your direction.

“Oh, shit! This a fuckin’ family reunion?!” His hand falls heavily over the crown of your head and you swat it away with a smack.

“How’s prison?” 

“Oh, y'know…free food, can’t complain.”

“D’you get yourself a bitch?” You tease.

“Yeah, brought ‘em home, actually-” He says pointing back to Carmy, causing the forming grin on your face to fall when you see he’s been watching you. You pull your eyes from him and back to your cutting board. “Oh right, my bad…”

You shake your head, mumbling a sharp ‘asshole’ through gritted teeth. Richie takes off to the back and you’re finally left at peace.

You fall into a pronounced balance of chopping and continuously stirring the compote, until it reaches the needed consistency and you pull it off the fire to cool. You check it off Syd’s thoroughly organized list and scroll down to find the next task, then make your way back into the walk-in. With a bowl resting on your hip, you pick out a few pears you’ll need, then hear the creak of the metal door open and you assume it’s Syd coming in to take a breather from the frenetic kitchen.

“Yo, I’m gonna start poaching the pears. You’re out of red wine but I can run to the corner store and try to flirt with the clerk to knock a few bucks off a bottle-”

The slick bowl almost slips from your grip when your eyes catch his. A chill slithers from your neck, down your spine and wraps around your knees, rendering them uselessly immobile as Carmy just stares you down through tired lids. The room grows uncomfortably smaller with the two of you locked inside and you're afraid that he can hear the irregular tempo in your quickening pulse. You wonder if the slight shock in his brows is due to not knowing you were in there. It only flashes for a second, then his features conceal behind a curtain of indifference, making your stand straighter.

“H-hey.” He says with a feign coolness as he wraps his own apron around his waist and moves deeper into the room, as if it’s the most natural thing to find you between the inventory of his restaurant.

You turn back to the shelf so he doesn’t notice the multiple quivery inhales it takes for your voice to sound somewhat even. “Syd asked me for help, that’s why I’m here I-”

“No- yeah, I get it- I wasn’t-” He cuts himself off and takes a breath that has your wavering stare slowly inching towards him. “Thank you…”

You finally turn to him, only holding his stare for a second, then give him a tight smile and wrap both arms securely around the bowl that wants to slip from your clammy palms. His lips part and you wait for anything else to leave his mouth, maybe a ‘How’ve you been?’ or a ‘Can we talk?’. But nothing does and you try to not let it sting as much as it normally does when you get your hopes up. You take a reluctant step towards the door, then another and another, only stopping when your name vibrates in the concealed room.

“Yeah…?” You turn with a full chest.

He holds an unopened bottle of wine in your direction, face blank. “Bottom left shelf.” He says, shrugging.

“Oh. Right.” You take it without meeting his stare so he doesn’t see the grief slapped across it and quickly push yourself out the space.

You spend the better part of half an hour peeling the thin skin off the pears and letting the simmering wine and spices fill the kitchen with a strong sweetness. Carmy’s presence looms around the room as he checks in with every station on their progress, but doesn’t stop with you. All you get is a soft ‘Behind’ and the tingling sensation of his touch on your lower back as he passes by. You don’t know if it’s on purpose or not, although it doesn't really matter to the breath that stops in your throat when he does it. ‘Just finish this and you can leave.’ you repeat to yourself. Though you know you won’t, at least not until they’re up to schedule, even if every second sharing the same space withers at your soul.

You do your best to focus on your task, only talking to Tina when she gently squeezes your forearm to ask if you're okay, because your brows are glued into that permanent scowl that only displays your irritation outward.

“Yeah I, um- just got a lot on my plate.” You tell her and try to not let it trigger the tears you’ve hoarded in the back of your throat.

“No te hará sentir mejor-” She whispers to your side. 

“-Probably not-”

“-pero él está igual de miserable que tú. Really baby, you should have a talk with him, y’know, straighten things out.”

“T, ni siquiera me ve a la cara…” You whisper back. “How am I supposed to straighten anything out if he won’t even look at me?”

“Ay, baby I know. But I’ve known that stubborn boy all his life and let me tell you, since he came back from Madison Square Park -or wherever the fuck-, he was all different and… bitchy. And it wasn’t ‘till you came along that he finally felt like the Carmy we all knew before… pues ya tu sabes.” She says in reference to his brother.

“You two are good for each other, but you’re both stubborn as hell… talk it out, okay? Don’t lose somethin’ good ‘cause you're stubborn.” Tina rubs your shoulder reassuringly then with a final smile. she turns yelling ‘Corner!’ and disappears behind the tall stands.

You swallow down the aching knot and distract yourself with the slippery fruit in your hands.

“Can I..?” You see his hands before hearing his voice, as he lightly places a white cutting board a few feet away from you. You eye the curves of discoloring letters above his knuckles, then force your stare back to your own working hands and shrug.

“Sure… your kitchen.”

He only nods, from your side view you see how his eyes linger on you for a few moments then fall back down. The air between you feels thick despite the music playing from the hoarse stereo and a light layer of conversation from the staff. There’s a heavy pressure over your chest that only seems to expand with every silent minute passing between you. 

Then Carmy clears his throat. “How’s-uhm- your set.. for the auction?” 

Confusion and irritation brew in synchronicity with your wine and you try to hide the annoyance his question brings you. He acts as if he’s just seen you the day before, as if things had ended with a friendly handshake and a mutual agreement, not with him breaking up with you and completely vanishing from your life.

“It’s fine.” You turn to the burners and stir the pot slowly to keep it from burning and also to avoid his heavy gaze.

You taste it to make sure the flavors are correct then turn back to finally finish peeling the last of your pears. Carmy stares at you like he wants to say something else, but just contemplates the seriousness of your features and the flow of your hands as you move the peeler in a frenzy. Each stroke grows closer to your skin and he just feels the need to warn you.

“Careful you’re gonna-”

“Mierda!” You hiss, dropping the handle immediately and cradling your palm under the injured one. “Hijo de puta!”

He’s by your side in a second, with his clean towel hovering under your hands and taking the fruit that you crushed involuntarily when the pain closed your fist. 

“It’s fine- I’m fine.” 

“No you’re not, you’re bleeding-”

“I said I’m fine!” You pry your hand hard enough to hear a slight pop from your wrist.

Carmy’s hands fall to his sides and you divert your gaze to the floor walking to the nearest sink to clean your wound. You hiss again when the warm water hits your palm and a gash at the bottom of it is finally visible. Fucking perfect. You scrub remnants of puree and blood off, until the water runs a light pink and you're relieved to see it won’t need stitches. A gauze and some tape will suffice, so you wrap it in some paper towels to avoid dripping and march to the small office where you find the kit. The quicker you move, the faster you’ll be out of the confined space that makes you feel like a vulnerable prey. But your fingers tremble from the light sting and the edge of the wrapper isn’t cooperating with your dull nails. Tiny droplets of blood pool in the center of your palm, the frustration grows too quickly and you slam the unopened gauze flat on the desk.

“Fuck!”

‘It’s fine, you’re fine.’ The voice in your head circles through the same phrase, pretending that the sudden proximity of him didn’t unearth something you have tried so hard to bury down for the last month. You thought you could be mature enough to ignore the crushing weight settling over you with every stare, but the wisps of frigid indifference that radiated off him wrapped a tightening noose around your neck and you weren’t sure how long you had until it finally killed you. 

A soft click pulls your attention from the crimson in your hand. Carmy stands with raised palms, inching slowly towards your intense glare, then reaches out a hand as if trying to help a wounded animal. Which in a way, you are and the joke forming in your mind about the bear helping a fox would be rather funny if you weren’t so immensely upset with him.

With a ragged sigh, you turn in the small space and stretch out your hand to him, eyes locking on a painting on the wall to evade his stare. You ignore the furor of goosebumps that invade your skin the second his touch is on you. Carmen’s hand holds you in the cocoon of his fist, thumb rubbing delicate circles beside the battered spot while he uses the paper towel to soak up all the blood. You reprimand your wayward beats for their reaction to his innocent touch and you have to constantly pull your wandering gaze from reaching the dangerous borders of his tightened jaw. His deep exhales fan the baby hairs resting at the bottom of your neck, his attention fixed on the small imperfection. His movements are slow, asking each muscle for permission to move the next, because having you this close after so long is a luxury he does not want to rush through, not if he’s never getting it again. 

Carmy understood your anger. He could feel it radiating off you in waves that bounced in the small space, but he also understood that he’s never had enough words to properly express the turmoil of everythingness swirling constantly inside his head. He wanted to let you know how hard it had been for him too. Confess the unhealthy amount of time he was spending at the restaurant- only going home to shower then leaving again- because he was afraid of the scent of your perfume and how it lingered on every breathable space in his home… apartment- not home- at least not since you had gone.

He focuses on swabbing the sanitizing wipe tenderly in hopes that his actions can transmit what he can’t say. The alcohol makes you hiss again and his eyes flicker to your frowned brows, mumbling a soft ‘sorry’.

He only lets go to tear open the gauze and some tape, then takes you in his grasp again to wrap your palm up safely. You expect him to let go once he’s done. To create as much needed space to fit the betrayal he portrayed the last time you saw him, this would only explain why he never called back. But he doesn’t. And he doesn’t look up at you either. Your stares meet on the flesh where his thumb still brushes over the blood-stained pit, your chest raises in slow puffs and the uninjured hand grips tightly over the edge hitting behind you. This is all too familiar again, right down to the brewing anxiety trickling heat into your overworked veins. You can't help but to foolishly crawl your pupils over the navy blue of his apron, past the strained tendons of his neck, the sharpness of his nose and to the beautiful blue you had missed so much.

Neither of you notice how the space has reduced to mere inches between you until his eyes flicker to yours and every single speck is bright and visible for your admiration. He swallows down hard, the Adam's apple bouncing in his throat portrays his nerves openly to you. The last reasonable, minute voice in his head tells him to pull away, but the way you’re staring up at him has his body tilting in your direction instead. Eyes wide and glossy dance around the freckles dusting his cheeks, causing his hand to float from your wrist to the dip of your waist and his forehead finally falls against yours.

You gasp in softly when his fingers dig into the center of your spine while his nose brushes along yours longingly. You can feel his sultry exhales ghost over the curve of your parted lips with doubt still present in his movements.

“Carmy…” The voice is above a whisper and you’re not sure you even have the strength to utter the sentence that’s formed in your head.

Your voice seems to trigger something in him. His jaw hardens, his fingers bunch up your shirt in a light fist and just as quickly, his grip on you loses strength and his hand falls to rest beside your fisted one. Then a grave sigh parts his chest and he takes a painful step back, unwilling to lift his eyes from the ground.

It takes a minute for you to react, then the butterflies in your stomach turn to wasps swarming in dangerous circles, unable to fly out due to the knot blocking your throat. He’s eerily silent, eyes glued to the floor to ignore your fiery glare.

“Sorry, I…” 

You scoff and shake your head, blinking rapidly to pull back the tears threatening to spill with your anger.

“Screw you, Carmen.” You untie the apron as quickly as you can with your injured hand and throw it at his desk before walking out of the small room.

With strong footsteps, you take your bag from above the lockers and escape out the back. The door slams hard as you push yourself out, Carmen following behind but by the time he calls your name you’re already a couple steps ahead.

“Fox!” He yells and you spin in his direction with nothing but anger over your face.

“Listen, I’m sor-”

“No-fuck you- you don’t get to talk, alright?! It’s my turn.” He takes a step back before crashing into you, jaw locked tight and regardless of the deafening ring in your ears, you refuse to bite your tongue again.

“Look Carmy, I am truly sorry that I didn’t tell you earlier and I’m so sorry that I’m here instead of your brother- but that does not mean you get a fuck-it-all free card and get to pull shit like that!” Tears of anger trickle down your heated skin and tickle the curve of your trembling lips.

“I called you Carmy…” The words burn as they force themselves to spill out. “I called you, and I texted you and I waited cause I knew you were pissed - and you have every fuckin’ right to be- but it doesn’t give you the right to kick me out of your life one second, then act as if everything’s fine the next, cause it’s not!”

The sounds of the city have grown mute between your heavy breaths and the erratic beating in your skull. You don’t expect him to answer and he doesn’t seem to have anything to say. He simply stands before you, eyes glossy and brows knitted as you bare all that you kept since the last time you saw him.

“I know you’re scared. And I know you’re angry and whatever this is-was-” You say pointing between you. “I know it didn’t come at a right time. But I meant what I said, Bear, I do love you. So fucking much. But that doesn’t mean it’s fair of you to take it out on me cause you’re angry at him… I refuse to be collateral damage for whatever the fuck you got going on.”

The weight over your chest might have shrunk, but it didn’t make you feel any less better than before, especially not with the way he’s looking at you. You want nothing more than to run to his side and kiss away the few stray drops that nest in the corner of his red rimmed eyes. You want to hug him tight until the loose pieces of his brokenness stick back together into one whole man, but the last of logic inside you knows that it would only serve as a temporary band-aid. So instead you offer a speck of a smile, just a soft curve that doesn’t reach your teary eyes.

“I love you, Carmy. So I dunno, give me a call when you sort it out- I know it’s more of a ‘when’ than an ‘if’ situation-… I think I’m stupid enough to answer.”

Carmen watches from his frozen position as you rub the tears away with the back of your hand, then the gravel crunches under your boots and in a few seconds you disappear around the corner. 

He has enough energy to slump over the crates by the wall and pull the crushed package of smokes from his back pocket. While the wisp of smoke swirls in the wind around him, he rubs his eyes until the image of your tear-soaked face blurs away behind the darkness. The gravel creeks again, heavy steps move from his left then settle with a groan beside him.

“I’m not in the mood, alright?” He says, eyes focused on the street at the end of the alley.

Richie doesn’t say anything, only takes out his own cigarette and joins his cousin in silence.

“Is there, um-” His voice is thick and wavering, barely holding on to controlled breaths. “Is there a name for… when you’re afraid of somethin’ good happening cause you think somethin’ bad’s gonna happen? ”

His thumb rubs anxiously over the same spot on his palm as he waits for Richie’s response.

“Fuck it, I dunno… life?” He takes a long drag, letting the exhale occupy the empty space in front of them. “That bad, huh?”

“Yeah…” Then the silence falls over them again.

When his cigarette burns out, Carmy reaches for another, but before he can settle the lighter back down, Richie pulls out a small envelope from the pocket of his jacket and hands it to him. Carmy’s reluctant to take it, his eyes flicker between his cousin and the piece of paper, then he slowly reaches out.

“What’s this?”

“It’s from your asshole brother… R.I.P and whatnot.” Is all he says.

His hand trembles again, his breath short circuits and a new wave of dread nips at the back of his neck. He swallows hard and breathes in deep, bracing himself, before turning it over. ‘This day just keeps getting better…’

Chapter 12.

Taglist: @pearlstiare @teteminne, @beebslebobs, @harrysmatcha, @yum-yahgurt, @pussy-f41ry, @kirakombat and that’s it lmao

[icysinner]

hometown hero — chapter one | back in town.

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: onyankopon finally lives that dream of playing professional basketball, but through the glitz and glamour, he’s still in love with the girl from his hometown.

𝐍𝐘𝐀 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: word count: 868, this is really long and can u tell i love ony

get added to the taglist. <3

𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ᥫ᭡ 𝗻𝗲𝘅𝘁 ᥫ᭡ 𝗽𝗿𝗲𝘃𝗶𝗼𝘂𝘀

“y/n, you heard that your man’s coming back in town?” lae asked as you sat across from her, getting a fill and a new design. “i have a man?” you asked her, fake confused because you knew who she was talking about. “onyankopon supposed to be touching down in the city today, you gonna go see him?” she asked, smiling at you. “let’s be clear, he’ll definitely come see me before i go see him.” a laugh could be heard from the both of you. you and onyankopon had an interesting relationship, that was one way to put it.

you transferred middle schools in seventh grade, moving all the way across the country. when you moved schools, onyankopon was your first friend. he was drawn to you because he realized you were quiet, and that if he didn’t make a move first, the two of you would never become friends. maintaining this friendship through school was easy, you, him, violet and tylae even decided on the same high school in eighth grade.

as you all grew up, onyankopon grew a love for basketball. he played all four years of high school, and then he got offers from all types of colleges. you thought you’d lose contact with him after college, because going pro was a dream he was willing to make happen, regardless of who he had to cut off. but onyankopon liked you a lot, enough to make sure he kept contact with you, and he even does now, now that he’s in the nba.

⎯⎯⎯⎯

violet rushed into the door of tylae’s salon, holding her laptop and papers in her hand. her blonde hair was in a claw clip as she sat on one of the waiting chairs. tylae’s salon was closed on the weekend, closed to everyone but the two of you. “girl, why are you running in here like that?” tylae asked as she spun her chair around to see violet. “oh, i was running? sorry.” violet said, smiling. “you guys heard onyankopon’s coming back today? supposedly to see his mom.” sometimes, you and tylae forget that violet is a journalist, and she would know all this information before you two.

“yeah, we heard, vi.” “he’s bringing levi and their manager too.” violet responded, looking through her papers as she talked to the both of you. “you sure he’s only here for pleasure? the man can’t keep himself from working.” you said, rolling your eyes at the thought of his reluctance to stop working. “pretty sure it’s just pleasure, if it is for work, they’re coming earlier than the rest of the team.” violet said, chewing on her gum as she read through her paper.

⎯⎯⎯⎯

sitting in your living room, a cup of noodles in your hand and rick & morty on your tv, your phone lit up with a text from onyankopon.

ony 🤍

just got off my flight, u home?

y/n

what happened to going to see your mom ? 😭

ony 🤍

i’ll see u first, come with me to see my dukes?

y/n

okay, only because i love ur mom

ony 🤍

don’t love me nm? crazyyyy

y/n

no i dont. see u soon love u

⎯⎯⎯⎯

you sat on your couch, still into your show, when you heard a knock at your door. your heartbeat immediately went up, excited to see your friend after so long. you opened the door, revealing onyankopon, who clearly was enjoying that nba money. he had on two cuban link chains, diamond earrings on both ears, (the last time you saw him, he only had one.) and gold fronts in his teeth. he looked good, looked like he just got a fresh haircut too.

“how long you gonna stare, girl?” he asked with a smile, pulling you into a hug. “i wasn’t staring! you’re just so..shiny.” you said with a smile, eyeing his chains. “like the ice, huh? maybe i’ll have to get you some.” onyankopon smiled, walking into your apartment. “you got a nice place here, upped the ante from the last time i was here.” he said, looking around at your decorations. “well, it’s been almost seven months since you’ve been here, and a lot has happened for my bank account in those seven months.” you noted.

“yeah, i heard you on your tiana shit, got yourself a restaurant.” onyankopon commented, “heard all about the place. gotta let me see it soon while i’m here.” he said. “well, when do you leave?” you questioned him, “if you really wanna see, i’ll show you tomorrow.” “i don’t leave ‘til monday.” onyankopon responded, picking up one of the mini jade statues on your end table. “okay, for one, put that down before you break it, and two, why are you here for so long? neglecting your job?” you asked him teasingly, to which he rolled his eyes.

“me and levi are here early, we have a home game saturday.” onyankopon replied, “speaking of, you should come, bring lae and vi if you want.” he said with a smile. “only if we get courtside seats.” you said, jokingly. “of course you’d get courtside, you think i’d have my girl in nosebleeds?”

[kj-yikes]

12. Pine

(on ao3 here)

A summary, for context: Lena knows that Kara Danvers is the love of her life, but life always had different plans for them. Kara’s dream has always been to take over her family’s Christmas tree farm. Lena runs one of the most successful tech companies halfway across the country. They’re both happy with their lives, except for one thing.

Lena’s only in Midvale for the weekend to meet with the family lawyers to settle the Luthor estate. She definitely doesn’t have the time or mental energy to see Kara, after everything that’s happened between them. But will she see Kara anyway?

Or, an excerpt from the angsty high school sweethearts/situationship/‘Tis the Damn Season AU that’s been bouncing around in my head for months.

CW for marijuana use.

———

Lena’s phone buzzes in quick succession. Glancing down, she sees two Instagram notifications from kdanvers07 overlaid over the picture of her dog she has as her lock screen background.

Lena sighs. Lena’s not sure why she accepted the first Instagram direct message from Kara all those years ago. Her publicist is the one who had suggested (well, forced, rather) Lena to create a public social media profile. People like to see your day-to-day life. It makes you seem more human, her publicist had said. Lena really didn’t think people cared what she ate for breakfast or which dress she wore to last week's museum gala, but somehow, they had flocked to her account by the thousands. 

Kara likely hadn’t thought that Lena would ever see the initial direct message she had sent. Lena could scroll back through their message exchange to the beginning, but she knows it by heart.

It was in response to one of her first Instagram stories, a candid photo of Lena in front of a cake with a giant sparkler in the middle. Lena had her eyes closed, laughing and trying to block the photographer from taking the picture.

Happy birthday. You look just as gorgeous as ever, Kara had written. Lena had found it in her DMs by accident later that night, wine drunk and alone in her apartment. It had been five years since Lena had seen or even talked with Kara. 

Without thinking much about the implications, Lena had navigated to Kara’s profile. She had slowly scrolled through the photos – pictures of Kara at her favorite coffee shop, with her sister Alex at some undisclosed bar, playing board games with friends. 

Lena had lingered on one in particular: a candid of Kara walking away from the camera in the distance towards the edge of her family’s Christmas tree farm, looking over her left shoulder. Kara’s slim figure and broad shoulders were accentuated by the red flannel and tight jeans she was wearing, her long blonde hair down and wavy under her beanie. 

Lena had tapped twice to like it before she realized that it was a two year old photo. There was no undoing that impulsive mistake, so she had tapped the “follow” button and responded to Kara’s DM with a single red heart emoji. 

Lena swipes open the app and sees the two most recent messages from Kara. 

How long are you in Midvale for?

Can I see you?

Lena sighs. She’s only really in town for the weekend to deal with the issue of her parents’ estate. She doubts she’ll have time for much else, but… there’s always a but. Lena knows what will inevitably happen if they get together like the plot of her favorite book.

She recalls the last time she had been in Midvale, the last time she had seen Kara two years ago. Lena was in town, reluctantly, to visit her stepmother, Lillian, and things had gone poorly, as usual. Snide jabs at Lena throughout dinner weren’t anything out of the ordinary, but this particular dinner had been more vicious than usual. Despite everything, Lena was concerned that perhaps Lillian was getting lonely, here in this giant mansion without her husband and children. 

And then, Lillian had dropped the bomb on her.

Lena hadn’t known who else to call that night. Her best friend, Sam, was in Europe working on a merger, and would have long put her phone on do not disturb to get some sleep. And her brother, Lex, would have likely said something snarky about interrupting his evening’s activities before hanging up the phone and leaving Lena alone to her thoughts.

So she had pulled out her phone and messaged Kara, who picked her up in her old pickup truck at the end of the long driveway ten minutes later (despite the fact that Lena knew Kara’s apartment was fifteen minutes away). 

“You don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want to,” Kara says, a hand on the wheel as she glances over at her in the passenger seat. “I thought we could just drive around for a while. Get you out of the house.” Lena nods.

”That sounds nice, thank you, Kara.” She picks at the cuticles of her fingers in her lap and looks out the window as the trees begin to thin out. Lena watches as they pass through the tiny town square of Midtown, then Kara takes a right and they head back out into the forest. Kara grabs her hand and brings it into her lap, entwined with hers.

Minutes pass, maybe hours. Lena’s not really sure, and she’s lost count of the songs that have played on the crackly radio from the local country station when she spies a familiar gate. The truck rumbles as Kara guides it onto gravel and slides it into park. With a smile, Kara squeezes her hand and opens the car door, hurrying around to open Lena’s before Lena can reach for the handle. 

The parking lot of the Christmas tree farm is completely empty. It’s late January — the part of the year where there's not much work on the farm. Kara grabs her hand and leads her to the bed of the pickup truck, opening the hatch and hopping up. Lena takes the offered hand and joins Kara.

Silently, Kara slides a flask and a hand-rolled joint from the pocket of her chore jacket and presents them to Lena, her eyebrows raised in question. Lena considers, then grabs the joint. Alcohol will just make her more morose. Kara smirks and pockets the flask, producing a lighter. Lena puts the joint in between her her lips, and Kara leans close to Lena to light the joint. Lena can't help but watch Kara's hands as she flicks the lighter.

Lena takes a drag and immediately, the tension in her neck releases. She closes her eyes, exhales. Her eyes open and immediately find Kara's deep blue eyes on her. Kara's cheeks redden slightly at getting caught staring, but she doesn't look away.

Lena pinches the joint between her fingers and passes it to Kara. Holding eye contact, Kara places it in between her lips. They look just as soft and plump as Lena remembers them.

Kara says nothing, waiting for Lena to be ready to talk, as they pass the joint back and forth. Lena's gaze wanders around the lot of the farm. So many memories here. All of them with Kara. It didn't feel like it at the time, but things were simpler back then, over a decade ago. Over a decade since Lena's lived in Midvale, and yet she's back here again, at the Danvers Family Christmas Tree Farm, with Kara. Getting high. Upset about her family.

Time is funny.

"Lionel was my biological father," Lena says, breaking the silence. Kara looks up at her, surprised. "Lillian told me at dinner."

"He never told you."

"No." Lena's eyes meet Kara's again. Kara understands. Kara was there when Lionel died. Kara knows the complexities of Lena's relationship with her father.

Kara searches Lena's face. "Lena, this doesn't change anything about who you are as a person."

Lena's eyes shut, and she lets out a small laugh. Years apart, and it's like no time has passed. Kara still not only knows how Lena's brain works, she also never fails to say so.

It's frustrating. It makes her heart soar, to be so well understood.

"Yeah, I know," she says. She drops the joint to the floor of the truck and puts it out with her boot. "Still hurts, though." Kara notices the tears Lena tries so hard to not let fall. She crosses over to Lena's side of the truck and sits next to her, leaning against the cold metal of the truck. She seems to hesitate for a moment, then grabs both of Lena's hands in hers.

Lena needs more, though. She pulls her hands back and instead tucks her head onto Kara's shoulder. She feels Kara smile as her strong hands wrap around Lena's waist.

Lena cries, and Kara holds her, occasionally giving her tight squeezes and rubbing her back. Eventually, the tears run out.

-----

"Katie Roberts really tried to get you to join her MLM?" Lena asks, laughing. Her head is buzzing pleasantly, and she feels every inch of Kara's body underneath her. "Wasn't she the valedictorian of the class below you?" Kara's eyes shine in the moonlight as she chuckles. They're laying in the bed of the truck, Lena's head on Kara's chest and Kara's arms around Lena. They had moved to lay down under the pretense of stargazing, the pine trees of the farm towering around them. A head on a shoulder turned into full on cuddling within minutes. Despite the years apart, it feels so normal, so comforting. Kara always had that effect on Lena.

"Yep. How the mighty have fallen," Kara jokes. Lena giggles again and shakes her head.

"Truly Midvale's finest." Lena watches Kara laugh, how her tongue presses to the insides of her teeth as she tries not to bust out laughing, how her eyes close happily. It's always so easy, being with Kara. That was never the hard part of their relationship. The hard part was always their different plans for life, their families' plans for their lives. Plans that Kara and Lena could never seem to fit together.

Lena doesn't notice when Kara catches her staring, too caught up in her memories of when things were easier for them. Kara's snort pulls her from her thoughts.

"What?" Kara shakes her head, a smug smile on her face.

"You better be careful, Miss Luthor. You know how handsy I get when I'm high."

Lena smirks, raising an eyebrow.

"And?" Kara eyes light with desire. She smiles goofily, and Lena rolls to straddle her. She places a hand on either side of Kara's face.

"Oh." Kara giggles softly. Lena takes in Kara's sapphire eyes looking up at her — a more beautiful sight than the stars above her, before leaning in to capture Kara's soft, pink lips.

It's like coming home. She lets out a soft moan as Kara grabs her hips and pulls her closer.

God, why didn't Lena come to Midvale more often? Why did they ever decide that long distance wasn't for them? Lena can't remember. Kara's tongue is sliding into her mouth and her teeth are biting Lena's bottom lip and Lena can't help but to melt into Kara over and over again.

Kissing Kara is as grounding as it is erotic. Every thought of her family flies out of her head and is replaced with Kara's calloused hands cupping her cheeks, her lips pressing over and over against Lena's. She's missed this so much. Lena cards her fingers through Kara's hair, and a groan drops from Kara's lips. It awakens something in Lena's lower belly, and she tugs harder, pulling Kara closer and closer.

Somehow, Lena's bra ends up shoved in the corner of the truck bed. Their kisses are eager, but slow, melding into each other as Kara traces her fingertips across the sides of Lena's breasts underneath her sweater. Kara's chore jacket is halfway off, pushed to her elbows but still caught underneath her.

“Stay over,” Kara says breathlessly, pulling away from Lena’s lips and pressing her forehead to Lena’s. “I don’t want you to have to go back there tonight.” Lena’s already shaking her head. God, she wants to. But It's not a good idea. Her high has worn off slightly, and she knows that she'd be in for another argument with Lillian if she isn't there in the morning. And she'd have to explain to Lillian where she was, and Lillian always disliked Kara. It was bound to make a complicated situation worse.

“I can’t. All my stuff is still there, and… I‘m going to have to talk to her eventually,” she finishes lamely. Kara’s mouth is opening in protest, but Lena cuts her off gently. “I appreciate the offer, Kara, but Lillian’s probably already asleep. I won’t have to deal with her until morning, and if I need rescuing again, I’ll call. I promise.” 

If Kara is hurt by this gentle let down, it doesn’t show on her face. She nods resolutely, then captures Lena’s lips in a soft kiss before sitting up. Lena reluctantly rolls off Kara. She doesn't want to stop kissing Kara, but.

“Let’s get out of here, then. It's freezing." Kara offers Lena a hand, and she grabs it, standing. Kara supports her as she maneuvers her way down from the cab of the truck. Kara hops down after her and moves to open the passenger side door. Her hand hovers over the handle, and she looks like she wants to say something else, but after a moment, her blonde waves bounce as she gives her head a little shake.

The drive to the Luthor mansion is silent, but not unpleasantly so. Kara pulls up to the end of the driveway at the gate and lets the car idle. 

“I really appreciate it, Kara. You didn’t have to come get me,” Lena says quietly. It’s dark, but Lena can see Kara's

“It’s no big deal, Lena. Plus, it’s not every day I get to see you.” Kara’s smile looks genuine. “I…miss you.” 

Lena nods. “Yeah. Me too.” She leans over the console and presses her lips to Kara’s softly, gently, only for a few moments, trying to convey to Kara everything she's feeling. Kara’s eyes are still blissfully shut when Lena pulls away and opens the car door.

It's not until Lena's back in her room, laying in her bed, that she realizes her bra is still in the bed of Kara's truck.

------

Lena reads Kara's two DMs again.

How long are you in Midvale for?

Can I see you?

Two simple questions, but so loaded. Lena's torn. The last time she saw Kara, they had almost slept together, and then Lena left town.

She hadn't wanted to leave without saying goodbye to Kara. Her departure had been hasty, and then the chaos of work pushed the events in Midvale aside. It wasn't until days later that she had messaged Kara an apology, to which she had never received a reply. Until today.

I can’t. I’m here to settle the estate, and that’s it. I’m sorry, she types out. Her finger hovers over the send button. It's for the best, she thinks. On top of everything, Lena's not sure she can handle another complicated situation. Nothing's changed between their life circumstances. Lena still runs a company in National City. Kara still runs her family's farm here in Midvale. Neither of them were ever willing to compromise those things for each other. Her heart squeezes painfully as she hits the send button.

Kara's read receipt turns on. She's seen the message. Lena watches as the text bubble appears, disappears, appears, disappears.

I understand. You do what you need to do, Lena. <3

I'm here if you change your mind.

Lena, inevitably, changes her mind by the end of the weekend.

[cloudlessly-light]

“You’re lucky I didn’t ruin your orgasm. What do you say to that?”

“Thank you daddy. Thank you for edging me. “

With stepdad hotch x brat Emily

Pretty please?

A/N: So here I thought I was done with this universe but I do have a lot of fun writing it and the request I got just happened to one of my favorite kinks soooo, here we are!

(Please look at the tags for this one!)

Title: Wild child   Summary: The case was over and Elizabeth was out of town. Should he fly home anyways? Probably. Does the case happen to be just an hour away from where Emily was? Yes. To Aaron, it’s a no brainer.   Word count: 3,5k Rating: Explicit   Warnings: Smut, power dynamics, dirty talk, edging, orgasm control/denial, oral sex, stepfather/stepdaughter relationship, taboo relationship, restraints, cheating, begging, dirty talk, verbal humiliation, rough sex, jealousy, stepdaddy Hotch is back and meaner than ever, stepdaughter Emily

“I thought I’d be back tomorrow but a last minute meeting is being held on Monday.”

“No it’s fine. I was actually thinking about spending the weekend here, see an old friend.” He lies through his teeth as he speaks to his wife on the phone. The rest of the team is packing up, more than happy to fly home to spend the weekend away from crime and death. It had been a rough one, a case he knew would stick with all of them to some capacity. And he needed to let off steam, needed to feel in control.

He was in Connecticut, less than an hour away from where Emily lived in her off-campus apartment. He hadn’t seen her in almost four months, since that Christmas, and now when this opportunity fell into his lap, he had to take it.

“That sounds like a nice weekend for you.” Elizabeth is already sounding distracted and he hears the rustling of paper. “Do you think you can give Emily a call? Just to check in since you’re close. She hasn’t been answering my calls but maybe you’ll have better luck.”

“Of course, darling.” He knows that he should feel bad, feel some kind of guilt for lying and cheating on his wife, but the guilt had completely disappeared by now. The only thing he felt when he thought of his time with Emily was desire, forbidden and filthy, sides he never got to express except when with her.

“Thank you. I’ll be home sometime next week.”

“Okay.” He hears voices on the other end and knows that Elizabeth is about to hang up.

“Love you, I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Love you too.” He hangs up and puts his phone in his pocket. He made small talk with his team as they finished up the last of their work and then as they’re all getting ready to leave he gives them the same excuse as he had his wife.

“I’ll see you on Monday.” He says as Dave looks at him with a hint of doubt.

“You’re sure you want to stay?” The older man had always been exceptional at reading him.

“Yes, one of my old college friends lives here and asked me to stay for the weekend.”

Dave is silent for a second too long, but in the end he shrugs.

“Have a nice weekend.”

“You too.” He watches as they drive off before getting into his own SUV. He calls her immediately, knowing that it was Friday and she was just about done with her classes for the week. She picks up on the third dial.

“Aaron? What’s wrong?” She sounds worried, but he isn’t surprised by that. They never talk unless it’s on skype with Elizabeth present.

“Nothing’s wrong, sweet thing.” He relaxes into the seat slightly when he hears her breathing hitching. “I was working a case and now it’s done and I’m in Connecticut for the weekend.”

“Really?” She sounds like she’s holding back excitement and he pictures how she’s biting her bottom lip.

“I’ll be at your apartment in an hour.”

“What if I already have plans?” She challenges, her tone just shy of conceited and he squeezes the phone a little harder.

“Cancel them. Or you won’t like what I’ll do to you.” He hangs up before he can hear her reply. He knows she’ll listen; she always does.

*

Emily looks at the phone, mouth hanging open slightly from the way he had hung up on her. She knew that she should ignore him, that she should go out with her friends like she had planned and tell him to fuck off for expecting her to drop everything.

But she hadn’t seen him since Christmas, hadn’t gotten to let go in the way she only could with him. This was a rare opportunity; she wasn’t going to pretend it wasn’t. So she texts her friends, blaming a migraine and she hurries towards her apartment. The first thing she does is clean up, quickly hiding dirty laundry and clears books and papers that’s scattered in the living room off the table. Looking at the clock she realizes that she doesn’t have much time and so she jumps in the shower.

He knocks just as she’s getting out of the shower, he was early. But she knows that she’ll end up naked regardless, so she forgoes any clothes and opens the door with the towel wrapped around her.

“You’re early.” She states as he looks at her slowly up and down. She notices a few specks of grey in his hair and finds that she likes it. How did he always manage to look so effortlessly sexy.

“Are you going to let me in?” He’s leaning against the doorframe, towering over her as she stands barefoot. “Or do you want all of your neighbors to see you like this?”

“I shouldn’t.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “You ruined a fun night for me.”

“And you don’t think we’ll have fun?” He takes a step forward and easily tugs the towel away, leaving her completely naked. “Your attitude will be your downfall, baby girl.”

The sound of a door down the hall opening makes her panic, knowing that she was on full display and she drags him inside and slams the door shut.

He pushes her right up against the door, crowding her space and she sucks in breath at the heat of his body against her back and the cool wood against her front. His mouth is by her ear, one arm already moving around her body to tease between her thighs.

“Now, is this any way to greet your daddy?” He husks and she shakes her head, already feeling herself falling under his spell. When his fingers move through her folds and he feels the slick between her thighs he snickers. “You’ve been soaked ever sine I called you, haven’t you?”

“Y-yes.” She gasps, hips moving against his hand in search of friction.

“Yes what?” He pushes her even harder against the door, keeping her completely trapped as his fingers speed up.

“Yes daddy.” The familiar words come easily, a need to feel him, to please him already overpowering any other thought.

“There’s my good girl.” He muses with a growl.

He fucks her right up against the door, bringing her over the edge as he mutters filthy words against her ear. When he comes he snarls her name, hands tight enough to bruise as he keeps her against him.

After, he cleans her up and watches with dark eyes as she walks on trembling legs and he already knows that this was the best decision he could have made.

They spend the evening doing more of the same, hands and lips always searching until the need for food becomes too much. He lets her decide on take out and then as they’re waiting he watches as she grinds on his thigh until she comes with a breathy moan.

The next day they’re woken up by the sound of knocking and as Emily looks at her alarm she swears.

“Fuck, I forgot to cancel my run.” She hurriedly grabs his shirt that’s the closes thing to her and walks to the door while Aaron sits up on the bed, leaning against the headboard.

“Em! Come on what is taking so-” The insistent knocking stops as she opens the door and Cooper looks at her state of undress “Oh.”

“Sorry I forgot we had plans.” She gives him an apologetic smile. “But I’ll make it up to you, pizza on Monday?”

“Yeah, sure.” He sounds disappointed for a moment but then musters up a smile. “See you on Monday.”

She waves and watches for a moment as he starts to leave, but the sound of Aaron’s footsteps gets her attention and she shuts the door. She knows what’s coming, remembering what had happened when he thought Derek was flirting with her. In the back of her mind she realizes that Aaron being jealous wasn’t going to stand in the long run, when she actually met somebody, but right then she found his jealousy hot, his possessiveness making heat flutter in her belly.

“A friend?” He stops right in front of her.

“We work out together.” She says and his eyes flash with something dark.

“Is that right?” His hand is fisting her hair so fast she barely registered that he had moved. She hisses as he pulls her head back, the grip painful. “This isn’t another one of your little boyfriends then?”

“N-no I swear.” She whines as he starts to pull her back towards the bedroom while getting the shirt off her, leaving her naked.

“I’m getting really tired of your attitude, of your lies.” He throws her on the bed and quickly straddles her waist.

“Daddy please-”

“Greedy little thing, any dick as long as you get an orgasm, is that it?” He grabs his tie that’s on the dresser and quickly binds her hands to the headboard. When she shakes her head with a pout he chuckles, the sound condescending and he sees her cheeks flush.

“I promise it’s not like that.” She refrains from pulling on the bindings and instead looks up at him with wide eyes.

“Even so, you’re in need of a lesson. A lesson of control.” He gets off the bed and goes to the desk where she had told him she had her toys. He grabs the vibrating wand and a dildo and places them on the bed beside her. “But first things first.”

Emily follows his gesturing hand, mouth watering at the sight of him already hard in his boxers. When she licks her bottom lip she hears a satisfied hum from above her.

“You want it?”

“Yes. Please.” She adds for good measure, not wanting to get into even more trouble. It’s enough and Aaron quickly rids himself of his boxers. The angle is strange, Aaron kneeling beside her head and grabbing her hair to help her crane her neck enough to be able to wrap her lips around him. But they make it work, Emily licking and sucking him the way she knows he loves and listens as he groans above her. The sound shoots straight to her clit, and she doubles her efforts, her tongue pressing with firmer strokes, her lips tightening around him.

“Fuck yeah, that’s it, good girl.” He whispers as she takes more of him. When she starts to struggle he starts to thrust, slowly fucking her mouth and groaning as she chokes around him every time he presses against the back of her throat.  

When he pulls back enough for her to take a couple of desperate breaths he wipes a couple of tears from her face and her hazy eyes meet his.

“You look so pretty like this, cock drunk for me.” He whispers and makes his way down the bed. Her legs spread for him, showing just how much she loves when he treats her like this, her slick shining on her inner thighs.

“I’ll be good, please daddy, I’ll be good for you.” She begs and he smacks the tip of his cock against her swollen clit.

“Oh I know you will.” He gives her a look that makes her pause, she knows that look, knows that whatever he’s planning will completely ruin her. The headboard rattles as she tugs but just like she knew, the knots were too tight. “Just relax and let me enjoy myself baby.” The words are barely out before he pushes inside of her.

He doesn’t give her time to adjust, settles quickly on a hard, deep rhythm that makes the bed slam against the wall and her body jolt. She grunts, the stretch of him mixed with pleasurable pain, the former quickly taking over. She can’t do much but take it, let him set the pace as he uses her body for his own pleasure. When his large hand presses her thighs back, opening her up even more to him, his angle changes and he manages to thrust right against that spot inside of her that only he had been able to find.

“Fuck!” She cries out, the pleasure building quickly as he stays like that, fucking into her like a mad man. “Daddy…” She gasps and he smirks down at her.

“You're such a little slut for me. Mine to use.” He mutters as he stares down at her. The flush on her cheeks has crept down to her chest, her abs are tensing, just like he expected, she’s already getting close.

“Yours.” She whispers as the pressure builds by each thrust of his hips. “Daddy, I’m so close.”

“I know baby.” He pants, feeling her tightening around him. He watches as her eyes roll back, how her back arches as she heaves for breath and just before she falls over the edge, he stops.

She cries out, her orgasm stopping in it’s tracks and she jerks on the bed. When she looks at him, there’s a pleased look on his face and he covers her mouth before she can start to complain.

“Mine to use.” He tells her again and then flips her around, her arms twisting above her. “You do not deserve to come, greedy thing.” He pushes back inside of her smoothly, slowing his thrusts as he enjoys the heat of her around him.

“Please…” She gasps, body already tingling from unreleased tension.

“I’m going to fuck you until I’ve had my fill, then maybe, you can come when I’m done with you.” He pulls her to knees, put pushes her upper body down against the bed. They stay like that, Aaron fucking into her with even strokes and Emily whimpering and moaning into the bed. He stops her from coming two more times, Emily’s begging falling onto deaf ears.

By the time he’s coming, Emily is shaking, her face buried in the bed to keep from screaming in frustration. She can feel her own slick run down her thighs and when he comes with a groan, she feels his release mix with hers as it drips out of her.

“That’s right, such a good pussy for daddy to use.” He mumbles, brain slightly hazy from his orgasm. When he lays down beside her, Emily rolls onto her back. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen her pout like this, dark eyes shooting daggers at him.

“Untie me.” She mutters and pulls on the bindings again and he laughs at her.

“We are not even close to done, sweet thing.” He presses a kiss to her lips, then her forehead but she’s annoyed and doesn’t reciprocate. Aaron doesn’t seem bothered, only laughs at her again and then stands up and goes to the kitchen. He comes back with a bottle of water and holds it to her lips.

“Drink.” He tells her and she silently takes a couple of sips. The cool water seems to chill her heated body slightly.

“Now what?” She asks as he lays back down after taking a drinking some of the water as well.

“Now, you’re going to truly learn what happens when little girls get greedy.” Before she can even think to ask what he means, two of his fingers push inside of her. Then the buzzing of the wand starts and he holds it in front of her face before moving it down her body. His fingers curl and pushes inside of her and then he traces the wand over each of her nipples.

Her back arches at the feeling, pushing her chest further into the round head of the wand before he moves it further down her body. The feeling of the vibrations against her clit makes her entire body buckle in pleasure and somewhere through hazy pleasure she hears him snicker at her.

“Does that feel good baby?” He smirks, the question rhetorical and they both know it.

“Yes, yes it feels good.” She’s panting already, her legs widening as he curls his fingers and massages against her spot.

Aaron keeps his eyes on her, ups the power of the vibration and when her slick walls start to tighten around his fingers he stops, pulling away from her.

“No, please!” She cries out in disappointment. She knows there’s really no point, when he edges her he will continue until he deems her to be done, but it doesn’t stop her from trying.

“Quiet.” He warns and waits another moment before picking up the wand again. It’s not long until she starts to tense, her body shuddering on the bed and just as she’s about to come he stops again.

She whines, the sound needy and desperate but she doesn’t say anything, only waits until he’s pushing his fingers back inside of her again. This time he’s upped the power of the vibrator again and she feels like her whole body is going to explode.

She loses track of time, of how many orgasms he’s ripped from her. All she can feel is need, her body tense and brain screaming for release. He’s switched from using his fingers to using the dildo, and it’s only making her more crazy. Tears of frustration paint her face, she’s covered in sweat and when he stops again she can barely get a sound out.

“You’re so pretty when you cry.” He turns off the vibrator but keeps fucking her with the dildo, slowly, enough to keep her on edge but not enough to get her off.

“Please, please, pleasepleaseplease.” She looks up at him, eyes swimming with tears and desperation and Aaron feels arousal deep in his gut. He loved that he could reduce her to this, that she willingly gave herself like this.

“Who’s little cunt is this? To whom does your body belong?” He growls and starts to push the toy a little faster inside of her.

“To daddy, I’m yours.” She gasps and when he hums against her neck she knows she’s pleased him.

“That’s right, which means I do what I want, when I want.” He grabs the wand again and puts it on medium before pressing it back against her clit. The moan that leaves her is raspy and low and he doesn’t think he’s ever heard a sexier sound.

The coiling in her belly is back with a vengeance, after being denied for this long it only takes her minutes to get right back at the edge she so desperately wants to fall off. But he doesn’t stop, even when she starts to tremble, even when she moans out his name and she looks at him with wild eyes.

“Come Emily.” He tells her simply and within seconds her body is buckling as she comes so hard she can barely breathe. All she can feel is pleasure, pleasure that’s close to painful, like her body doesn’t know how to handle it after all the buildup. It feels like she’s been coming for minutes when he finally stops the vibrations and but keeps lazily pump the dildo.

“Good girl.” He kisses her sweaty temple as she tries to catch her breath, her legs still twitching.

“So good.” She whispers, almost delirious from the power of her release. When she opens her eyes he’s looking at her, eyes so dark they look black as he pulls the toy out only to settle between her spread legs. She jerks at the feel of him against her and his eyes harden.

“You’re lucky I didn’t ruin your orgasm. What do you say to that?” He pushes inside of her but keeps his eyes on hers.

“Thank you daddy. Thank you for edging me.” She whimpers and when he starts to move she knows that they’re far from done.

When he leaves Sunday afternoon Emily can feel him everywhere, his marks are covering her body, there’s a pleasant ache between her legs. She kisses him good-bye at the door, bites down on his bottom lip and tugs and he growls slightly.

“You know, JJ thinks you’re hot.” She muses and he arches an eyebrow.

“Your blonde friend?” His hands are tight around her waist, not letting her go.

“Mhm, she told me during Christmas. And, I thought you should know, cause she’s a very good kisser.” At that, his fingers twitched and a low murmur sounded in his throat.

“Is that so?” He noses under her jaw, bites over a hickey. “Have you slept with her?”

“No.” She smirks when he pulls away to look at her with heated eyes. “But who knows, we’re both coming back for the summer. Just something to think about.”

“I swear you’re going to be the death of me, baby girl.”

She laughs and kisses him again, already tasting the want on his tongue. But he had a flight to catch so she settles on watching his ass in his jeans as he walks away. Just before leaving he turns to her, sending her a smile and a wink.

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

part 4 of flames?? im HOOKED u dont get it we're actual masterminds

I'm sorry it took so long for me to put this out. I'll get to the 5th part this weekend:)

Flames - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader - Part 4

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Summary: You're trying to give Ethan a chance with your daughter, but Chad isn't so trusting.

Contains: Angst, a smidge of fluff, Ethan trying to learn how to be a dad, mentions of mental health.

A/N: Y'all...I'm convinced that some of you can read my mind because I'll think about something I want to write(esp. when it comes to spicy stuff), and then one of the sweet anon's on here will request it. I stg some of the things I've gotten requests for have made me fucking BLUSH.

After Ethan went to bed, you struggled to fall asleep. You still felt a little uneasy about him being in the next room over, and not having a true understanding of what he’d actually be capable of. Finally, the exhaustion kicked in and you drifted off. You woke up a few different times during the night when she started to cry, and Ethan ran in the room ever single time, desperate to help.

Once the sun started to peak through the gap in the curtain, you stirred awake and looked over to see River awake in the bassinet.

“Hey, sweet girl,” you said, scooping her up in your arms. She started to coo, the soft sounds making you smile.

You walked out of your room to the next room over, quietly pushing the door open as you saw Ethan in a deep sleep. You noticed his backpack on the ground in the middle of the floor, and started to think about how he needed laundry done. You reached down to grab it, before quietly sneaking back out of the room.

You went to the nursey to change River, before heading downstairs to play with her for a little bit. Once she fell asleep again, you grabbed his bag again, and went to the laundry room.

You started to pull stuff out of his bag, a few bottles of medication falling to the floor.

“Shit,” you whispered to yourself, reaching down to grab them. You started to look at the medication names and pulled out your phone to google them. One was for anxiety, one was for depression, and one was a really strong anti-psychotic med. It might’ve been wrong to be that nosey, but you needed a better understanding of his mental health.

You sat them down on the counter in the room before starting the laundry. He soon walked downstairs, desperate to find you.

“Hey,” you smiled, your face dropping once you noticed his nervous expression. “What’s wrong?”

“I need my meds,” he panicked, looking around for his bag.

“They’re in here,” you said, gesturing to the laundry room. He saw them all lined up, feeling a little shame as he reached for them.

“Thanks…if I don’t take them when I’m supposed to, I don’t act like myself,” he said, calming a little as he opened the bottles and got a pill from each one.

“Do you need water?” you asked as he shook his head, dry swallowing all three pills at once. “Is there anything I can get for you?”

“I’m okay. You’ve already done so much for me,” he said, as you walked out, him following closely behind you.

You went to the living room, the two of you making small talk when your mom walked through.

“I’m going to work. I’ll be home late tonight, but I sent you some money for pizza or whatever you and your friends want to order tonight,” she said, before looking down to smile at her sleeping granddaughter. “She’s just so precious.”

You sleepily smiled at her, as she grabbed her purse to walk out the front door.

“When should they be here?” Ethan asked, referring to your friends.

“Actually,” you said, pulling out your phone to check the time, “Any minute now.”

He started to get really anxious. He was hoping he’d have a little more time for his meds to kick in before he had to be face to face with more of the people he hurt, especially Chad. He wasn’t sure what to expect, but he was about to find out, as he heard light tapping on the front door.

“It’ll be okay,” you tried to assure him, as you got up to walk towards the door.

“Hey! Where’s that precious little angel?” Chad excitedly asked, turning the corner towards the living room. He stopped in his tracks the second he saw Ethan. The rage that built inside of him for months started to come to the surface as Tara walked in behind him, her eyes going wide. “What the fuck is he doing here?” Chad yelled, walking over to Ethan. He grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him up, so he was face to face with him.

You bolted around the corner, trying to step between the two boys as Chad stared Ethan down.

“Sleeping baby, right there,” you said, gesturing towards River as Chad face softened a little. “I know you’re pissed, but you need to calm down.”

“Yeah, babe. Let’s go outside for a minute,” Tara said, as he let go of Ethan’s shirt.

He listened to Tara, as they started to leave the room. He turned to look at Ethan one more time before he softly spoke. “If you hurt either of them, I’ll fucking kill you.”

Ethan didn’t say anything, he just stood there. He had so many different emotions on his face as he tried to pull it together, once again running through all the steps his psychiatrist drilled into his head before he was released from the hospital.

“You okay?” you asked, once Tara and Chad went outside.

He shook his head as he started to cry. You sat down on the couch and grabbed his hand, pulling him down to sit with you. Your arms wrapped around him as he sobbed into your chest.

“I’m so sorry, for everything,” he cried, “I think I should probably go.”

You pulled away to look at him, “You knew how this could go…Don’t try to run away from us the second you’re making progress.”

He wiped his tears as he looked up at you, “I’m making progress?”

“Yes, Ethan. It’s going to take a lot more work, but you’re already doing such a good job with her. Don’t let anyone else make you feel like you aren’t supposed to be here with me…or be here with her.”

You felt yourself start to tear up as you heard Chad and Tara walk back inside. Ethan intently watched Chad, not knowing what to expect as he sat beside him on the couch.

“Why are you here?” Chad questioned; his voice significantly calmer than before. “You fucked your life up, so you come here to get her to put the pieces back together?”

“Chad, stop,” you warned, as Tara chimed in.

“Just tell him what you need to say, Chad. Don’t be an asshole. He is River’s dad,” she said, looking over to the sleeping baby.

Chad sighed, looking at Ethan, “I don’t fucking trust you, and I don’t like that you’re here. You fucking hurt me, dude. I defended you time and time again whenever you were accused of anything. You know how awful I felt when I found out you were a part of the reason we were fucking terrorized and almost killed?”

The guilt was all over Ethan’s face as he tried to think of the right things to say to apologize, but there weren’t any. He knew he fucked up, and he knew that it was going to take a lot for the people he cared about to even begin to trust him.

“I’m sorry, for everything,” Ethan finally said, as everyone’s eyes were on him. “I tried to stop it, I really did.”

“We know you did,” Tara said, as River started to wake up.

Chad got up and walked over to the bassinet to grab her. She stopped crying the second she was in his arms. Ethan watched the interaction, feeling sick to his stomach. You reached down to grab Ethan’s hand, attempting to comfort him before he had a chance to show the emotion that was building.

“We missed you,” Chad whispered to the baby, as he sat down beside Tara.

You let them bond with her as you sat with Ethan. “You’re still her dad,” you reminded him, as he nodded.

“So, what’s the deal with you two?” Chad asked, noticing Ethan’s hand in yours.

“Oh, um…right now he’s just…trying to make things right,” you said, as his thumb rubbed against your hand. “He wants to be in her life, and I want to give him that opportunity.”

“Do you really think that’s a good idea? He doesn’t know the first thing about her,” Chad said, handing the baby to Tara.

“I’m trying to learn,” Ethan sighed, “I get it that you hate me. You have a good reason to, but I’m doing a lot better than I was.”

“Whatever you say,” Chad sighed, “She’s more forgiving than I am.”

Ethan nodded as you stood up. “I need to go put the laundry in the dryer. Please don’t try to kill him,” you said, walking away.

“Don’t we have to worry about him trying to kill us?” Chad joked, but you turned around, not thinking the joke was very funny.

“He’s working through things, stop intentionally trying to trigger him,” you said, as Chad’s eyes connected with yours.

“Sorry, dude,” he said, as Ethan mumbled “Thanks.”

After Chad and Tara started to get used to Ethan being around, you excused yourself to go shower. You wanted to take Ethan shopping to get anything he needed, and you had to look at least somewhat presentable before you could do that. You even put on a little bit of makeup, hoping to hide the dark circles under your eyes.

You grabbed Ethan’s laundry out of the dryer and took it upstairs. It didn’t take long to fold it because he really didn’t have much. When you went back down the stairs, you got a bottle ready for River, knowing she’d be hungry soon.

Like clockwork, she started to cry as soon as it came out of the warmer.

“Hey, can I borrow my kid?” you asked Chad, as he gently passed her over to you. “Thanks,” you smiled, sitting beside Ethan. “You want to feed her?” you asked, as Ethan nodded.

Chad and Tara nervously watched him, but soon started to relax when they realized how gentle he was being with her. He’d gotten some practice during the feeding sessions in the middle of the night, but he was still terrified when it came to the burping part. He was scared he’d hurt her fragile little body, so he passed her off to you once she was done eating.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Ethan said, going to the cart that extra baby blankets and clothes, and grabbed a burp cloth.

“Thanks,” you smiled, as he handed it to you. You adjusted her so she was laying on your shoulder, before patting her back. “Do you think you guys could babysit for a little bit?” you asked Chad and Tara.

“Of course,” Tara smiled, “Where are you going?”

“Ethan and I are going out for a little bit to get some things,” you said, as Ethan looked at you, unaware of the plan. “We talked about this last night,” you sighed, as he started to remember the conversation from the night before.

“Yeah, uh, I guess I should go change,” he said, getting up and heading up the stairs.

Once he was out of earshot, Tara started to whisper, “Do you feel safe going somewhere with him by yourself?”

“I’ve been here with him by myself,” you shrugged, as Chad started to shake his head.

“I know you want to give him a chance but is this really what’s best for you and River?” he asked, genuinely concerned for you and your daughter’s wellbeing. “Would you feel comfortable with him watching her by himself? He messed his whole future up.”

“It’ll be a long time before I could trust him alone with her. Fuck, I don’t even fully trust him being here,” you sighed, “But he’s trying to prove himself. He’s been through a lot.”

“You have, too, though,” Tara said, “You went through a pregnancy without him. You had the baby without him.”

“He didn’t know,” you started to defend him, as Chad got irritated.

“How was he supposed to know? He was busy trying to kill people,” he said, “I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, because we’ve been so happy to help…but it’s almost like a slap in the face to see you giving him a chance after we’ve been here for you through it all.”

“Please don’t look at it like that,” you said, your eyes starting to water, “I appreciate everything you guys have done. I appreciate everything that you’ll still do to help me out. If he fucks up, I already told him he doesn’t have anymore chances. Just try to be there for me while I figure this out.”

Chad and Tara both nodded, before you noticed that River was sound asleep laying against you. You swaddled her before putting her in the bassinet, and started to wonder what was taking Ethan so long.

The truth is, he never fully made it up the stairs once he heard everyone start to talk about him. He was silently sobbing as he stood on one of the stairs, not knowing what the best move would be. He could just grab his stuff and jump out the window, or he could keep trying to prove himself.

When he thought back to the conversation after he fully expected Chad to punch him, when you told him that he was making progress, he started to smile through his tears. His meds usually made him feel numb, but being back in your life was the first time he’d started to feel emotions again, and he was determined to prove to you that he was going to be an amazing dad.

[sniigura-archive]

Adam x Reader x Mammon AU where Reader's a stripper, Mammon's the boss of the club she works at, and Adam's the head of the church near the club that's trying to get it shut down. Reader being this nobody who's able to get these two (2) powerful men to do just about whatever she wants cuz her pussy's Just That Good.

She's Mammon's favorite so she's the only one of the club's performers that he listens to when it comes to getting raises/paid breaks, complaints about harassment from customers, etc., so Reader uses his interest in her to look out for her coworkers;

R: Oh, I'm not sure if I can have sex rn, i'm just too upset about how Bernadette won't be able to visit her family this weekend cuz she has to work overtime :(

M: Fine I'll give her the weekend off are you gonna suck my dick now or what

Adam and his church trying to boycott the club and causing problems for business so Reader goes to "talk to him" and now the club no longer has to worry about the church anymore. When members of the church ask Adam why they stopped boycotting he's bullshits something like "God told me we should show mercy to sex workers, just as Jesus showed mercy to Mary Magdalene (a former prostitute)". What really happened was that Reader gave Adam some A+ snu snu and threatened to never let him have sex with her again unless his church stopped boycotting the club.

Mammon goes to visit Adam shortly after cuz he can't believe that Reader managed to convince him to leave the club alone (cuz she's "just a girl" after all). Reader expects the worst, but then the two end up becoming instant besties and make a deal to have their services coexist in peace. Mammon def takes credit for "saving" the club and Reader's just looking at him like "sure jan B/".

HAUQJJAWH ANON!!!!!!!!! I THINK YOU SHOULD BE WRITING FANFIC INSTEAD OF ME!!!

god the way i was like trying to figure out how to do adam x reader x mammon and here you are. dropping this into my inbox. i’m in love with you

like!!! imagine the neighbourhood is going through some crazy gentrification. everything is changing, it gets more expensive and conservative?? hello?? what happened to the shit hole you grew up in?

you’re basically mammons cash cow. you’re the star of the club. he’s always torn between „get out there and bring some goddamn cash in“ and „nobody else should get to look at you besides me“ it’s very annoying with him. to cope he has to bend you over his desk to calm his raging possessiveness

at least you use your power over mammon for good. the girls love you and you’re all basically sisters. one girl comes to him crying because some guy groped her and he’s like „well did you at least charge him extra for that 🤨“ but when you come to him because someone called you a whore the guy can never show his face again in mammons block

ADAM!!!i just imagine him and the church protesting in front of the club and you’re just done with them already. they’re scaring off customers, especially since they live stream the whole thing!!!! most of your visitors are married men ofc they don’t show their face as long as they’re out there 😭 and man they are persistent

mammon is also losing his mind because he’s losing money. he’s also too cheap and stubborn to change club location

all these petitions and the pressure the church puts on the major is just stressful. so you decide to go over there, to talk. and oh boy did you both talk!! through gasps and moans

adam immediately develops a complex where he wants to „“safe““ reader. turn her into his perfect little housewife who stays home with their brats and goes to church every sunday. very confused when reader is actually okay with her life

reader in this i think would be rather smart with her money. like she’s into the stock market and buys property and invests in businesses. mammon and adam not realising that reader is better off than both of them 😭

LMAOO mammon taking all the credit 😭😭

i can’t even begin to imagine their reaction when they realise you’re doing both of them behind their backs. well it’s not like you’re in a committed relationship with either of them (they just thought it was implied smh 🙄)

need to be pressed inbetween both their huge bodies