#there was some rich guy who Almost bought it last i worked there but in the end decided to purchase online instead

[bogkeep]

oh i see they sell reindeer pelts even at the airport

[xveenusx]

Indifference

Paring(s): Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: Two people who are in love, well he used to be

Authors note: you guys like when I make you cry

Rating: angsty

Warnings: it'll hurt :)

__________________

He was late.

Time was a funny thing. Minutes turned to hours which rolled into days then suddenly months began to blur into years. In that time, people tend to go out and experience things, falling in and out of love, enjoying everything life had to offer.

Yet, I somehow found myself motionless, the spark that once ignited my core had been stifled to a small ember. Life continued to pass by while I remained glued in one place, watching as everyone around me attempted to achieve some form of happiness.

I was once like that. Filled with some much hope for a life with someone I loved, who showed up to support me and believed in my capability, because at one time in my life that was exactly what Rafe was.

Like I said, time was a funny thing. The more time passes with your partner, the more comfortable they seem to get. They stop trying. However, at what point does being comfortable become almost negligent?

Dates were canceled, appointments missed, and important accomplishments forgotten the more time went on. Rafe’s priorities shifted and I went from being the center of his world to being a planet merely circling his gravitational pull.

In his mind, we were forever, so a couple of cancellations here and there and bouts of forgetfulness were nothing in the span of things. I would have agreed had the cancellations not doubled with time or our conversations going from intimate and deep to surface level at best.

He was never home. It was always just me in this large house on figure 8.  Suddenly, he went from being the moon and the stars to just a bleak, unforgivable starless night. Cold and dark.

We had met when we were 16 and he was every bit a spoiled little rich boy that had extreme daddy issues, but there was more to him than that. I picked at his defenses until finally they shattered, and I was engulfed by all of him.

He was just different around me and that fact alone left me delighted. It made me feel special, almost stupidly so.

Things between Rafe and his father were already tense enough since Rafe bought a motorbike with the money he was supposed to spend on the generator. Then everything began to snowball out of control from there. He threw himself into his father’s work and when he wasn’t doing that, he was with Kells and Topper doing god knows what and snorting anything he could find.

Despite all of this, Rafe always kept me close and always let me in. 

Last year, when Ward had gone with Sarah and John B to South America, and didn’t return, something shifted inside him. His defenses were rebuilt, only this time he left me on the outside, and no matter how hard I tried to break him down brick by brick, nothing worked. He became obsessed with running Ward’s real estate empire better than he ever did.

Rafe was a cold and calculated legacy with a large chip on his shoulder that made him lethal against competing firms. He chewed them up and spit them out.

With every major milestone, it was never enough for him, and like a man possessed he continued to ruthlessly target anyone that had done him wrong. We had everything and yet the bitterness seemed to consume him. He was someone I saw once a day if I was lucky. He always left before I woke up and was never home by the time I went to bed and suddenly we were glorified roommates.

Once upon a time, I would stay up waiting for him with my heart in my hand, hoping to connect in any way. Even if I only had a few minutes to spend with him before he went to sleep, it was enough for me. But, 10 pm became 11 pm which turned into 12 am and so I gave up. My sleep schedule was already a mess as thoughts and insecurities pestered my mind of another woman.

“Any word from him yet? Some of the donors are asking for him?” The question pulls me out of my thoughts and I turn to face my assistant, Rai.

Her question is innocent enough, but I can hear the slight concern in her voice and I know she has her doubts which only serves as another humiliating reminder that Rafe has done this to me repeatedly.

But this was different. He knew how important this charity dinner was to the shelter I opened up for women and children who suffered from domestic violence.

As someone who came from the cut, it was everywhere and so many didn’t have the means to flee and so they were forced to stay and in the most severe instances, die.

Rafe gave me the start-up money as a gift and it was a huge success that I opened several more as well as fund for scholarships for both the mothers and kids. Which is what brings me to now, a charity dinner and auction to help fund said scholarships and pay for all the shelter necessities.

He promised he would be here. It’s important for the donors to see him here seeing as though he donated a huge sum once more and could ease the minds of those who are teetering on the edge. It’s also important to me. This project is mine, something I created and shared with the world and I want to share it with him too.

I want him to celebrate this accomplishment with me and he is nowhere to be found.

“He’ll be here. Rafe promised.” I clear my throat, “He knows how important this is to me.”

Rai gave me a doubtful look and I know that I couldn’t convince her anymore than I could convince myself. The engagement ring that bore my finger instantly weighed a ton.

Glancing down at the large diamond that once meant the promise of everything, stared back at me as nothing more than a simple accessory.

Rafe had proposed and foolishly I believed that it would save us so I said yes.

I stayed and time and time again, the disappointment slowly began to etch away at the childish hope I tried to cling onto until only a dull ache remained.

“Don’t you look lovely?” Plastering a fake smile onto my face, I let out a sheepish laugh as I take in Kiara’s parents. 

“Thank you guys so much for coming.” The words ring true but I couldn’t help but feel like I was underwater. My focus is shot and I find myself hardly listening with my eyes darting to the front door every minute or so, desperate to see the man I used to think would never stop loving me. 

I float around the room, committed to being a gracious host, because I would not let him take this from me too. Not when he’s taken everything else already. This is the only piece left of me. 

My cheeks hurt two hours later from all the fake smiles and my throat burns from the feigned laughing. The sound of my own voice makes me wince. 

In those two hours, I felt my confidence slowly get chipped piece by piece as everyone questioned where my fiancé was. And for a moment, I hated him. I truly hated him because even this small piece of heaven I made for myself is tied into him. 

Honey, I need to run some numbers with Rafe. Where is he hiding? 

Where is the biggest investor? Surely, he’s here, right?

I haven't seen Mr. Cameron. Has he stepped out? 

With which I responded,” Work emergency, you know how it is. He’s nothing if not committed.” Considering most of these possible donors run their own large companies, they completely understand but it’s their partners reactions that seem to leave me stunned. 

Each had a warm look of understanding dancing in their eyes as I’m sure they’ve used the same excuse time and time again.

I can only take so much. So I excuse myself and glance at the small gold heart shaped watch on my delicate wrist and take note of the time.

There was only 30 minutes left and I haven't gotten so much as a text from him. 

A pit began to form where my stomach used to be as I realized once more that he wasn’t coming. As I stood in a packed room, filled with a flurry of activity, surrounded by people, I’ve never felt more alone.

Then my eyes connect with Mrs. Dune, the wife of a finance guru that works alongside Rafe. She was much older than I, having been with her husband for 30 years but she looked even older. 

It’s almost as though she can read my thoughts, because she sends me a sad smile as she lets her eyes go to where her husband stands talking to other donors. I haven't seen him talk to her the whole night, instead she’s been standing at his side saying nothing. 

I take an uneven breath and my eyes widen in realization. Was this what I had to look forward to? A life sentence of loneliness vacant of any warmth and attention? 

Swallowing hard, I force my eyes away and stare at the door. Begging whoever will listen to please, this once, let me be wrong. I’m so in my thoughts that I’m startled when a soft hand lands on my arm.

“You get used to it. Eventually, you’ll feel nothing.” Mrs. Dune says quietly, her eyes moving back to her husband, with a look I can only describe as longing. 

That’s the thing. I don't want to get used to it. This isn’t how I want to be loved.

“What you’ve accomplished is amazing. Don’t let him take that away from you.” Was her parting words and she left, not sparing her husband another glance. 

When I turn to see if he noticed she left, he’s still engaged in conversations and doesn’t spare her a glance. 

This is not how I want to be loved. 

“Hey, I’ve been looking for you. This is Amy Park.” Rai looks ecstatic as she introduces me to the stunning tall woman next to her. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Park.” The words come out on instinct.

“I wanted to discuss how open you would be to expanding shelters nationwide?”

And for the first time in awhile, a real smile graces my face as I answer her question. 

_____________________

The first thing I notice when I pull into our driveway is the plethora of cars that fill it. The second thing I pick up on is familiar vibrations of music with each step I take along our pathway. 

My front door is wide open as people come in and out, clearly under the influence of something and my chest constricts. 

This is what he’s been doing? This was more important than me? 

Clutching my keys tightly, I welcome the familiar biting against my skin. I recognize many of the faces, most of them having gone to school with Rafe. 

If it was any other night, I would have joined them. We were only 22 and yet have lived what seems to be a hundred lives. But, this is different. He’s different. 

Climbing up the staircase, I head to the balcony where I hear a familiar boast of laughter. 

I cleared my throat. “What’s so funny?”

Heads snap in my direction but my eyes are only on one. One that currently has a short black haired girl nearly in his lap. I recognize her as a bartender at one of the local grills/bars we frequent. 

“Don’t you look gorgeous-“ Topper attempts to run interference, but it’s too late. I raise my hand to silence him. I’ve already seen everything I needed too. 

His body is positioned slightly in front of them as if I was going to body slam them. I might actually. 

“Hey, wait! How did the donor dinner go?” Topper's eyes dart to Rafe’s. “That was tonight right?”

I see the moment everything clicks. His eyes rake down from my newly styled hair to the louboutins in my feet. Everything I wore from the jewelry on my body to the shoes on my feet he bought me, and I’ve never felt more sick.

Rafe clenches his eyes shut as he shakes his head. “Fuck.”

Fuck, indeed.

“Get out of my way, Topper.”

He throws a worried glance to Rafe. “I think maybe-“

“Top, give us a second.” Rafe mutters tensely. He keeps his hard set gaze on me, drilling into me, almost as though he’s daring me to move. 

Kelce stands up giving me an apologetic look. “Rafe, man, there’s a bunch of people here.”

I force myself to look away. 

“Not right now, Kells.” 

He wasn’t wrong. This house was full of people, but the only difference being that none of them matter. Not to me and not to Rafe. 

Steady. Keep steady and just breathe. 

“So what should I do-“

I look at him. Me or them? It was unsaid but he knew what I was asking him. 

“Back the fuck off and give me a fucking second with my girl.” Rafe barks out, running a rough hand through the short cropped strands that brush against his forehead. 

Both hold their hands up in mock surrender before shuffling off to the side. The girl doesn’t get up. 

Topper coughs. “Sophia.” 

Her eyes take me in with clear distaste. Her hand is still dangerously close to Rafe’s waistband. I raise a single eyebrow giving her one last opportunity to move. 

She doesn’t. Not when Kelce calls out for her either.

Sophia made her bed. Setting my bag down, I take three big steps before I’m roughly shoving her off the couch sending her sprawling on the floor. 

Rafe let’s out a curse but makes no move to help her. At least he’s not stupid.

“Get out.” The words leave no room for negotiation.

The glare she sends me is filled with ice. “I was invited.”

Kelce lets out a groan before whispering,”Is she serious?”

The fake smile I’ve perfected over the years decorated my face as I bent down to her height on the floor. 

Flashing my engagement ring in her face. “Get out of my fucking house.”

That seems to shut her up and I watch with narrowed eyes as she struts away, Topper and Kelce in tow.

I can hear my heart pounding in my ears while my chest feels like it’s going to explode. I turn around slowly to face my damnation. 

My heels click against the marble floor and with each step I take, the more the ache in my chest grows. Marching up to Rafe, I grab his chin and force him to look at me. Those familiar glacial blue eyes are red. His pupils are blown wide and my chest cracks wide open. 

He’s high. 

This is not how I want to be loved. 

This is what he wanted to do instead of being there for me. Instead of supporting me. Instead of loving me. 

Dying would be less painful.

 I stare directly into those eyes, searching for an answer, wondering when the love he felt for me slowly became indifference.

I’d almost rather there be a mistress rather than this cold indifference.

“Did you have fun at least?” My words are soft but the intention is anything but. 

He says nothing. Instead Rafe studies me like I’m a wounded animal. 

Dark. Beautiful. Cruel. 

Those are the words I’d use to describe the man in front of me. The gaze that once felt like a soft caress on my skin now felt clinical. 

“It seems like you’re having fun.” I quip, flicking the small bag filled with familiar white powder. 

I thought I could fix him. I will not make that mistake again.

“I completely forgot-“

“How?” I ask. 

His eyes narrow like he’s trying to figure me out. “Work got insanely busy. You know how it is. Even if I own the place, I’m young and the older guys don’t respect me.”

“It was in your work calendar.” 

“No, it wasn’t-“

“It was also on your personal calendar and our joint one. I had your assistant send you a reminder email. So my question is how?” My voice wobbled and it was only by a small miracle that I didn’t throw something in his face. “How did you forget the only thing I’ve asked you for?” 

Something flickered in his eyes. “It wasn’t intentional. It slipped my mind.”

“Something I worked so hard to accomplish just slipped your mind?” Exhaustion has finally got the better of me and I finally let him see just how much he’s managed to chip away. 

“I should have been there for you and I’m so sorry,” His throat flexed a hard swallow. “But there will be other dinners.” 

The dull ache in my chest thrummed harder. Rafe was brushing this off, just like he always did. My skin flushed. 

At my silence, he braces his elbows on his knees and leans forward, tracking my every move. “I feel like you’re not understanding me.”

“No, I understand you just fine. It just wasn’t important enough for you.”

He stilled. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

Of course it wasn’t what he meant but he’s managed to make me feel so insignificant. So small. 

“I know that you’ve canceled most of our dates for work. Even an anniversary once. I know that you missed the grand opening of the shelter that I spent a year and half planning.” I force the words out, each breath I take feeling like needles. “I asked for this one thing, Rafe and you couldn’t even give me that.” 

“What about everything I have given you? This house, the car you drive in, the clothes on your back, the boat?”

It’s like I’m staring at 16 year old Rafe again. To him, material things were the equivalent to love. He couldn’t be farther from the truth.

I find that I was much happier when I had little to nothing, than I am now, sitting here with everything, in my gown and jewels. 

“I didn't ask for any of those things.” By the stubborn gleam in his eyes, I knew he was going to fight me on everything. 

Lately, his tactic was always combative and it was easier to give in or to not say anything at all. 

 “No, but you took them all the same. I fucked up, I get that. I know what this shelter means to you, but that doesn’t change the fact that you wouldn’t even have it if it weren’t for me.”

A familiar buzzing filled my ears. His words were ugly but they weren’t a lie. Even my project was his. I had nothing of my own.

I wonder how many other people came to the same revelation. Maybe that’s why so many of them asked where he was? Because this accomplishment wasn’t mine, no clearly it was his.

There is not enough room in my chest for the ache he caused. 

Words can’t seem to make it to my lips. I think my brain has finally broken and realizes that no words I say will get him to change. 

Smoothing out my dress, I stand on shaky legs before kicking off my heels. He can keep them. With that, I leave him out on the porch and make a beeline towards our his room. 

Opening the closet doors, I reach for the suitcase before setting it on the bed. I wasn’t going to be like Mrs. Dune and waste away beside a man that used to love me, hoping that one day he will once more. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” The words are hard and low. 

Rafe stands at the door, his arms crossed over his chest. His face is brewing with several emotions I can't quite place. 

It was funny. I haven't seen this much emotion from him in months.

I ignore him and toss some clothes from my dresser into the open suitcase, making sure to grab only the clothes I needed.

I slowly take off each piece of jewelry and set it on my vanity. He can keep everything he so gloriously mentioned he bought. 

“You loved me once.” I state, tilting my head to the side. I rake over every detail of his face, knowing I’ll never forget it. 

I loved him once too. 

His face morphed to one of confusion before disbelief. “I still love you. That’s never changed.” 

I shake my head. “Yes, it has.”

Rafe stalks towards me, his hand reaching to burl around my neck while the other pulls me to him by my waist. Familiar cologne fills my lungs and I count to ten mentally. It was the same cologne I bought him when we first started dating. 

“I work too much, I know. That’s my fault and I’ll cut back. I’ll be home more and we can spend time together. I’ll do better.” Taking my chin between two fingers, he forces my eyes to his. I see the sincerity in his eyes but I know how this goes. 

The same way it’s gone the last two times. He’ll beg me to stay, promise to change, and things will be good for a month before he slowly starts missing dates or canceling trips we’ve planned months before. Then the cycle repeats. 

“No.” It was time to love myself. Since he clearly couldn’t do it. I will not allow myself to get lost in him again. 

“Baby, just wait. Will you wait-“ He huffs as I try to move around him. No such success as his towering body has me moving back and suddenly I’m caged in by his arms. “Just give me a second, okay?”

“I’ve given you years. I won’t give you another second.” 

“Talk to me.” His voice breaks. “Please just talk to me.”

Longing filled my body. Words I’ve been waiting to hear for months come so easily to him, but only when I already have one foot out the door.

 “I’m alone.” The words come out strangled. “ I’m alone in this. I have been for a long time.”

“What do you mean? Baby, I’m right here.” Rafe’s gripping onto me tighter, almost like he’s ensuring I don’t leave. “I’m right here.”

“You're never here. That’s exactly my point.” 

Rafe’s eyes widen before he shakes his head wildly, staring at me like I’m speaking another language. “That’s not true-“

“What’s today?”

“What?” 

“What’s today?” I repeat, my eyes never leaving his. I want to see every emotion that storms in his eyes, just to remind myself that he is capable of emotion after all. 

“Friday.” 

I smile at him sadly. Exactly my point. “I haven't seen you since Tuesday.” 

“No, that can’t be right. I was with you when we had lunch with-“ He breaks off, reaching for his phone in his pocket. I watch as he pulls up his calendar, an action that mortifies me, and confirms our scheduled date.

 “Tuesday.” He whispers, shocked even. 

I wasn’t. Rafe had to check his calendar to confirm that last time he’s seen his fiancé. 

“You used to come bring me lunch. If you were more than a couple hours, you always found your way to me or gave me a call that you’ll be late.” I shrugged, blinking back the tears stinging my eyes. “Now, I don’t think I’d get a call if you were in the hospital.”

The buzzing in my ears intensifies.

 “You didn’t tell me any of this. None of how you were feeling and you're ready to walk out the door without so much as an argument.” A spark of my old Rafe appears as frustration dances across his face.

“I should have-“

“You’re giving up.” He states, shaking his head in anger. 

Maybe I was. “I’m tired of fighting for us. You gave up a long time ago.” 

Large hands curl around my cheeks, pulling me towards his face. Rafe rests his forehead on mine, his piercing blue eyes darting across my face in panic. 

“I love you. I love you.” He knows he’s grasping at straws, but we feel like strangers now. The words don’t feel like they used to. “You know I love you.”

 “This isn’t how I want to be loved, Rafe. I see you every couple days, the only time we’re ever together is when we have sex.” We lost sight of how we once were. The only thing that remained good between us was sex. 

That alone isn’t healthy. He goes to open his mouth but I cut him off.

“We never talk and when we do, you don’t even listen to me. Your brain is always somewhere else.” 

“I’m in a relationship with a ghost. I’m not letting you suck the life out of me anymore.” My eyes catch the sparkling ring that once brought me such happiness. Now, it simply feels like a ball and chain. 

Before I can convince myself otherwise, I start to tug it off my finger when Rafe truly begins to panic. 

“Don’t do that. Please don’t do that.” I try to hand it to him but Rafe jolts back like he’s been burned. The look he gives my empty hand is nothing short of destroyed.

I think I’m going to throw up. His words are laced with raw grief that makes it hard for me to breathe.

“Put it back on.” I hear the slight tremble in his voice.

“No.” My lips wobble. 

“Please put it back on because if you don’t that means we’re over. That’s not us. We aren’t supposed to end.”

“Rafe, don’t make this any harder than it already is.”

“You’re ripping my fucking heart out of my chest. This isn’t anywhere near hard, it’s excruciating.” Rafe’s hand is notably shaking, but he tries to hide it by clenching and unclenching his palms. 

“Welcome to the last year of my life.” The words are brutal but he needs to hear them. 

“You promised me we’d never end.” 

“You promised to change. I guess we both lied.”

Rafe raises his voice, his arms thrown up in the air in clear distress, “How can you just stand there?”

It was a miracle I haven’t collapsed on my shaky legs yet. The adrenaline pumping though my veins was the only thing getting me through this torture. “Rafe, stop it.”

“You talk about indifference?” Rafe lets out a humorless laugh, shaking his head up at the ceiling. “Who’s heartless now, baby?”

“You don’t get to put this on me. I’ve given you years of my life, showered you with nothing but love and support. I asked for one night, one fucking night, in your busy schedule and you didn’t bother to show up, or send a simple text.” I intake a sharp breath, pushing the hair out of my face with a shaky hand. “Instead, you threw a party in our home and got high.”

I point a finger at his chest, staring at him with open heartbreak. “I needed you,” The tightness in my chest finally pops as I choke on a loud sob, “I needed you and you weren’t there.”

“I lost sight of what’s important to me. I’m just trying to give you everything-” I cut him off. 

Grabbing the clothes I haphazardly tossed in the suitcase, ”You want this? Take it,” I shove them into his chest, “Take all of it. I don’t want it. I’d give this all away in a heartbeat if it meant I could have you back.”

I meant every word. I wanted my best friend back, the person I confided in and depended on. I wanted our late nights back watching trashy reality TV. We used to sit in the bathtub together basking in each other's company. Went on walks along the beach or took the boat out for hours, fucking on the deck, not caring that anyone could see. 

It used to be simple. He loved me and I loved him. 

“I’m angry, baby.I’m so damn angry all the time. At my fucking dad for always having these impossible expections. Then he goes and dies, leaving me without a clue on how to manage everything.” Rafe sags against the wall, exhaustion marring his features, his blue eyes pleading for me to understand. “I feel like I’m drowning all the time.”

I had no idea this was how he was feeling. But, he never let me in. “You could have told me, we’re supposed to be partners in this. You asked me to marry you!”

I think deep down I know that he felt me slipping through his fingers at one point. He could see clearly how unhappy I’ve become and that’s why he proposed. And maybe just like him, I thought the proposal could fix us. This proposal was being manipulated on both ends, it was doomed from the start.

You can’t fix what’s already broken. 

“My head has basically been a war zone and I’m losing. The only thing keeping me sane is that I know, when I walk through that door,” he points to our bedroom door, “I’m going to find you in our bed. Every. Single. Night.” 

“I can’t let the ugly touch you.” My heart splits into two at his words. Words I know feel like acid leaving his mouth. “You’re the only thing I have left.”

“Then you should have taken better care of me. You should have let me take care of you.” 

“Fuck,” He screams, bending down and swiping the lamp clean of the nightstand. The lamp goes flying into the wall, shattering into hundreds of pieces and my eyes are drawn to them. I can’t help but think it reminds me of us.

Dragging my eyes back to his, I fight the urge to wrap him in my arms. Seeing him in pain has never brought me joy, but this was brutal. His eyes shined with unmistakable tears, realizing the strength of my resolve. 

There was no going back this time. There was no trying again. I didn’t have another try in me. 

I grip onto the fabric of my dress moving towards him, my heart pounding out of my chest. He moves instantly, holding out his hand to guide me over the shattered lamp. Why couldn’t he be like this months ago?

Why did he let it get this bad? Why couldn’t he love me?

Now, standing in front of him, I let myself one deep breath, basking in the comforting smell of him. A large hand curls around my neck, his grip strong and firm, demanding my attention. His blue eyes are daunting and so intense, I find myself fighting the urge to look away.

“I’m going to get you back.”

”Take it, Rafe.” I whisper, uncurling his limp hand, “Take it. It doesn’t mean what I want it to.”

Tears blur my vision as I fumble with the ring he refuses to take.

 Rafe shakes his head, clenching his jaw tightly. “There’s no point in taking it off if it’s gonna go right back there in a couple weeks. ”

I can’t help but smile at the determination in his voice. He sounds like the old Rafe and for a second I see a glimmer of who he used to be.

 He had me. Then he lost me. 

This is not how I want to be loved. 

“If spending the next few months without you means that I get to spend a lifetime with you, I can manage. I’ll do whatever I have to.  But don’t think for a second that there is anyone else on this entire fucking planet meant for you.”

That’s how I want to be loved. Too little too late.

I drop the ring.

[godlyrots]

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓.

PAIRING — jason todd x fox!reader.

SYNOPSIS — you can't stay mad at him.

WORD COUNT — 1126.

WARNINGS + CONTENT — pre-established relationship, previous fwb relationship. oral, fem receiving. marking. might be ooc. use of petnames. making out + messy kissing if you squint? got kind of poetic in some places for whatever reason, i'm just vv sleepy. not proof read at all lmao so if you see mistakes ignore them.

AUTHOR'S NOTE — introducing fox!reader. i've only seen the animal!reader thing the OBX fandom but since i haven't seen anyone ( to my knowledge ) do this for DC i wanted to try. i'll have different iterations of readers who'll have different personality types + aesthetics based on different animals/what i come up with for them. but they are people, not hybrids.

. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . . ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

"you smell nice." you're whispering into his ear and your voice is rough from hours of rehearsal with your band and jason's hands are nestled on your thighs. he kneads at the pliant flesh, his calluses providing a contrast to the smooth skin in his palms. he lets out a soft hum once your teeth find the spot you know he likes.

he's got that familiar cologne on, filled with woody elements and that beautifully rich, musky scent. it was a gift from you for his birthday last year and he wore it until the bottle was empty and sat on a shelf in his closet and he bought a new one. it wasn't the first time you've been like this, this was your way of apologizing and you knew how to be physically affectionate even if you can't verbalize it. he slightly cranes his neck once your lips work to leave hickies on his skin, the old ones were fading into a light pink hue. you stopped once his phone lit up though and jason's hand reaches for it absentmindedly on the couch beside him.

he types out a response to who you imagine to be one of his friends but he quickly places in back down and focuses on you and his eyes rake over your pouty lips with your lip gloss and lipstick all over him. you can't help but try to remove your berry coloured products off his skin. his thumb works on your bottom lip and wipes off the remaining product. "still mad?" he asks with a low voice, in a tiny mini-skirt you're all the more attractive to him. you fight the warmth that fills your belly as wetness dribbles onto your underwear.

jason secretly loves when you fight despite the fact that he thinks some of your arguments are pointless, but seeing you riled up and angry in your little skirts or a mixture his baggy shirts and shorts or just underwear. he knows that he fucked up, you guys don't keep secrets but by the end of your fights he knows that you'll end up laying on your back with his head between your thighs or you on your knees with his cock in your mouth. either way you didn't complain because you're sure that you loved watching him as much as he loved watching you.

"little bit." you're telling him as he looks at you with that same hardened expression despite him understanding that he did hurt you. his justification didn't really matter, not right now. "i hate lying, you shouldn'a done it." you add on to the few words you'd said and your voice was still hoarse.

"m'sorry, doll"

"m'sorry too, just don't hide things from me."

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you have a fistful of jason's hair in your hands as his tongue laps at your wetness and sucks on your clit like it's the only thing on his mind. the noises from both of you are borderline obscene as he keeps a steady hand on your thigh and your whines are increasing in volume, even with the music to cover up the noise. he's pulling you into him as you squirm and bite back the moans that are climbing up your throat and past your lips. "christ, jay—" you're whimpering now and it almost feels pathetic but your body is one fire, the warmth of his skin of you feels illicit and jason doesn't come up for air.

he pumps his cock with his free-hand in his pants as he listens to you and with the added pent up frustrations of you not speaking for several days and your earlier escapades has got his head spinning. he can't get over listening to you, seeing you, feeling you. it's like he's this fiend and no matter what he does he'll never rid himself of this vice, this addiction and this longing. you don't hear what he says between your thighs as it's muffled by your plush skin but you know it's something absolutely disgusting.

"y'feel too good, baby."

he can't help but moan as he continues to both eat you out and fuck his fist and he can't get enough. jason's almost dedicated to getting you off, each touch is an apology, it might as well be an act of worship 'cause this is the closest he's ever felt to god. i'm sorry, m'sorry, i'm sorry. with each lick, rut of your lips or collection of each drop of your delicious arousal.

you instinctively raise your hips once he works your clit particularly well but he pushes you back down before you can blink properly. jason knows that you're close, he can feel how you clench around his tongue as he works on your puffy cunt, he's a man with a cause, a mission. you were already horny when you decided to mark him up, leave little reminders of you but god, he's so everything.

"right there. s'perfect jay." you tell him, voice filled with lust and genuine adoration. you feel your orgasm creep up on you and he harshly sucks on your little clit and doesn't stop until you're squirming and trying to squeeze your legs together as a way to self-soothe and have the ache subside but it was no use. he doesn't stop until your cum is coating the bottom half of his face and jason's head moves up from between your legs with low eyes that don't peer away from your pussy. it takes a lot in him, everything he has, even to stop himself from eating you out until you're writhing underneath him but you seem pretty spent.

your chest is heaving and you've got these haphazard breaths that stall every few seconds and your skin is warm, covered in a mixture of sweat and your shea butter lotion that's permanently stuck in jason's mind. you kiss him so feverishly that you can taste yourself on his tongue once it enters your mouth and you're moaning into it. he pulls away though, too quickly you think, with swollen, puffy lips and those dazed eyes like he just got some of the best head of his life.

"forgive me?"

you nod once your breathing calms down and your eyes catch the lipstick and hickies all over his neck that scream you're mine.

"guessin' that means you want your dick sucked?"

there's a slight beat of silence before he agrees with you. "fuckin' blue-balled myself f'you. it's only fair."

you roll your eyes before moving from the couch to the carpeted floors infrontt of you and you're on your knees. jason's hand pulls down his pants until they're down to his ankles and he's holdin' up your cute little boho braids up with his hand.

"whatever."

[a-tiny-thing]

break in // m.l

burglar!mark x rich!reader

pt.1, pt.2, pt.3, pt.4

the sound of a lockpick rustling into a metal lock might be the only thing can be heard during the dead of the night, as mark struggled to open the safe he found inside the wealthy mansion of an old man he discovered in the streets.

mark was just leaning by a wall at the sidewalk, taking a break from stealing other people's wallets when he came across this old man who just went out of the jewelry shop, flexing their newly-bought golden watch and diamong rings that could cost millions of dollar.

his eyes sparkled at the sight and thought it was now his chance to get rich, that's why he ended up here in this fancy-lookin' mansion.

the jewelries are almost falling out of his pockets, his sweat is rolling down his forehead, and his veins are already popping out of his arms as he remained focus on opening the safe.

"c'mon you piece of shit" mark mumbled inaudibly due to the little flashlight placed in his mouth, shaking his head in frustration as he accidentally dropped the lockpick on the marbled floor, creating a huge sound.

"hello?"

and then suddenly a door swung opened, revealing you in a satin nightgown.

you only came downstairs to get a glass of water, but then you heard a loud thud of metal coming from your dad's office.

you thought it would just be your dad doing some work until you saw the guy in a black beanie and black clothes, hunched over the safe as he quickly turned to look at you.

"ah- hmmph!" before you can even scream, the guy already ran up to you and blocked your mouth with his hand to stop you.

"hey hey, don't scream, please" he said to you in a pleading tone while still covering your mouth, and you struggling to get his hand off your face.

"i'll let you go, just don't scream please..." you stopped pushing his hand away, to signal him to let you go now.

before doing something, you thought it would be a bad move to betray him, and scream your lungs out once he lets you go since you don't know if he's carrying a weapon with him.

this could be your last memory.

"my name's mark" the burglar introduced himself, you looked at him in confusion.

"why are you introducing yourself?" you asked, suddenly confused as to why this robber becoming friendly so suddenly.

"what? am i supposed to be evil and murder you instead?" mark joked, but you tensed up when you heard the word "murder"

"i'm kidding"

"okay, why are you in here? why are you trying to open my dad's safe?" you asked nervously.

'okay, so you're the daughter of that rich old man'

wow.

"i-i'm just curious.." mark stuttered, thinking of the next words to say.

you glanced down at his current outfit, you saw your mom's necklaces almost splling out his pockets.

"so you're a burglar!" you exclaimed, like you just unlocked a clue.

"i thought it would be that obvious" mark whispered to himself.

"i'm going to call my dad" you told him bravely, as you turned to the exit.

"hey! no, wait!" mark grabbed your arm and tugged you back to him strongly that made you whip your head back immediately to look at him.

"what can i do to stop you from snitching me out?"

and to realize both of your faces are dangerously close to each other.

you stayed silent and unmoving for a couple of minutes, locking your eyes into his until it moved down to his lips, then back at his eyes again.

you really didn't think mark would notice that little movement your eyes made. thanks to you, he finally knew what to do.

then suddenly mark's lips was on yours, both of your eyes closing in instinct as you two enjoyed the kiss that lasted shortly.

breaking away from each other's lips, you were completely silent and was just staring at him in awe.

in the other hand, mark started to get red and awkward, and decided to head towards the window where he broke in. completely forgetting about the safe.

"uhh, imma have to go now, see ya" he said shyly, scratching the back of his head before climbing down the ladder situated outside the window.

mark's gone and you were still standing there dumbfounded.

you don't know if you're just surprised or in love, but a part of you is hoping that he'll come back to rob your place someday so you could see him again.

you haven't even told him your name yet.

when the morning rises, just lie to your parents that you were asleep during the robbery.

[nathanielzalexandria]

I love all the headcanons of "Steve is not dumb he's..." Hard of hearing, has poor eyesight, learning disability or his primary language is not English. I particularly enjoyed @dwobbitfromtheshire 's recent headcanon that he's hiding it because his father hates feeling inferior and only Eddie realizes that he is not dumb. But I would like to throw my own hat in the ring.

Steve is not dumb. Actually, he's quite smart and did quite well in school (because his parents would not expect anything less). He just wasn't into nerd culture and everyone just placed their stereotypes and rumours of him being a pretty and privileged rich jock who bought his way out of school but couldn't buy his way into college. Nevermind that he was in the top 10 students of his year and for most of his classes if not topping them and if not he wasn't failing the rest other than one or two science/math-based (rumours say the school forged those marks so that Steve could continue sports) and had a 3.6 GPA. It wasn't enough to get into his Dad's alma mater so his dad dismissed any of the other schools he got accepted into.

He does not try to hide his intelligence from Nancy or the Party, but Nancy had bought into the "Steve is simple-minded " narrative and the like before they got together and failed to realize that they are both in the same AP classes that were full of seniors and in any group or partnered project he more-than-well pulled his weight and had his own insights. So she spreads the narrative to Mike who spreads it to the rest of the party so by the time the events that befan with Dustin asks him for help with his "dog" and developed into concussed in the back of a car while a preteen drove his car, the kids have also bought into parts of the narrative. It doesn't help that he really isn't into the stereotypical nerdy stuff

Even his best friend Robin believed the lie until she worked with him and then got tortured with him by Russians. She eventually realises that he's way smarter in a practical sense than people give him credit for (he did raise himself since he was 11 or so) but does not think of it as stretching into the academic side of his life. She has not stopped calling him "dingus" though.

Eddie on the other hand knows better, which is why when a specific exam was coming up he turned to Steve.

He barged into the Harrington home a day when tye entire party was their.

"Stevie, you either have to tutor me or lend me your notes for this class. I am not failing this class and increasing the possibility of another year at fucking Hawkins."

Mike and Dustin burst out laughing at that before Steve can answer.

"I know you're e bad at that subject, but I didn't realise you were desperate enough to use Steve's notes," Dustin says with that condescending tone that means it should be obvious to Eddie.

Mike snorts at that derisively, "If he even has notes."

"Maybe," Lucas said diplomatically, "there are better options than using Steve's notes?"

Nancy steps up next offering some of her notes and flashcards since she took the class last year/is taking the class, "It's not my strongest subject but if we do a study group I'm sure you won't fail the class."

Eddie stares at the group with growing bewilderment as they agree that Nancy is the best choice while implying that Steve was not. Actually, they were acting as though he was dumb for even asking Steve, which made no sense to him.

Eddie turned his eyes to Steve. His posture by the kitchen island was much more different than when Eddie burst in. He had subtly curled into himself as if to make himself smaller, shoulders tense and a resignation on his face as if he's been through this conversation so many times before.

It was almost as if...

"You guys think that Steve is dumb, don't you?"

There was the type of silence that only comes when the quiet part is said outloud.

"No we don't think Steve's dumb," Robin begins and Eddie can hear the 'but' before she even said it, "But you know he wasn't good at the school part of school."

She continued to ramble on from there but Eddie did not hear any of it. He was too busy reevaluating the group he was with and rechecking old memories and facts to see if there was any inkling of truth to this strange idea that even the older teens should know isn't true.

It took him a moment to find the answer, and when he did he could not stop the derisive laugh that burst out and interrupted Robin's ramble.

"You guys fucking bought into the rumours, didn't you? I expect that from the kids maybe even Johnathan, maybe even Robin because of you became friends after he left school, but not from you, Nancy."

Nancy had that look on her face that she got when she was ready to argue but Eddie steamrolled over it.

"Jesus H Christ! Weren't y'all together for a whole fucking year? How do you not know that he was at the top of his year when you were together? Unless you dismissed that in favour of believing the rumours that his parents paid for his grades and the school wanted to make sure he kept on playing sports?"

He paused for a second waiting for someone to contradict him, but the look on Nancy's face was one of scrambling to defend herself. He sighed at that; she still wasn't getting it and it a sweeping look at the others proved they were lost too.

"Even if they paid off the school he would not have been in the top ten of his year, he would be like Carver and Hagan whose parents paid and their grades were just good enough to get into a decent college without too many questions. And they would not have kept on giving him high grades after he stopped doing any kind of sport in his last 2 years at that dump. Hell if Hargrove wasn't such a fucking beast at sports he would have been told he would have to repeat his senior year with me."

"It's okay Eddie; leave it go." He turned a fake sunny smile with his eyes tightly shut towards Eddie as if to pacify him.

Eddie turned to Steve who had yet to say anything throughout Eddie's diatribe up until that moment. He just continued to robotically make dinner for the party as though nothing was wrong, as though the hurt dripping off him didn't matter.

"I'm not letting this go! They had classes with you, some of which I'm pretty fucking sure were AP classes. If I had the attendance needed I would have graduated last year because of you, Stevie. So excuse me if I'm a bit annoyed that our friends are so blinded by a rumour that they can't fucking see your Salutatorian medal. Hanging. Right. There!"

All eyes except Eddie and Steve's turned in the direction that Eddie pointed at.

And there on the wall, was a framed silver medal with the word "Salutatorian" emblazoned on it. The party immediately burst into chaos amongst each other.

"Now, pretty boy, are you gonna tutor me or what?"

Or it goes something like that, I'm not sure.

[maximoffcarter]

Enough for you.

Pairings: Casey Novak x Alex Cabot.

Summary: Casey Novak was not for relationships, she was not a person who went to bars and left with the first person that complimented her or bought her a drink; she was not that kind of person. But then she found herself in the same bar as Alex Cabot; how could she say no?

A/n: So...*cough* another angst cause why not. If this goes well...there might be a part 2. This was my own creation from my own mind, so my own request🤷🏻‍♀️ If you got any more requests, please send them my way guys, either on my asks box or message me privately! Hope you guys enjoy this, leave comments, hearts, whatever you like and reblog so this gets some love🫶🏻

Part 2.

*not my gif*

‘You’re still young, you should be having a bit of fun even if you’re busy with work.’ If Casey could get a dollar for each time she heard someone say that she’d be rich at this point, maybe she wouldn’t have to work hectic hours. She knew they were not wrong, she was still young, even if she had gotten a good job at White Collar, she still had a right to live and enjoy her twenties, go for drinks with friends and coworkers every night, but she truly didn’t like that life. If anything, Mary Clark had shown her better, and she was not about to disappoint her; she was willing to focus on her job, to focus on what she came to do, and that was exactly what she was here for, not to go out with her coworkers and then get home all wasted and barely being able to get through the door. Yes, she went out time to time, she was in a softball team, she went to practice whenever her afternoon was free, she had a life out of work. She knew what her coworker meant by fun, but she didn’t want that fun, she didn’t think she’d ever want it.

The last time Casey had dated someone was back when she was engaged, not too long ago, and after that, she decided that she was better off alone. That had been a big mistake, she had rushed things before even meeting the person better and she ended up not only emotionally abused but physically too. Of course she knew that not everyone was the same, she knew that maybe she could be lucky enough to find someone who would treat her right, that could show her what true love was, but she still had many scars left, she still had some pieces to put together, and she was not about to risk it again for someone that she didn’t know, and for someone that could be just like her ex. So that’s why she also preferred to go drink alone every now and then; yes, she liked her coworkers, some of them were fun to be around, but she sometimes believed that she was probably more mature than all of them together so that’s why she enjoyed her time alone.

The one time she decided to finally ignore work for a while and go out with two workers, both of them had ditched her for two guys. There was a third guy, but Casey had rejected him even before he tried to make his move. So she found herself sitting alone at the bar with her second drink in hand, wondering if it was time to go home or if she could have one or two drinks more. She knew she had work to do, maybe she could even go back to the office to pick up her paperwork and take it home along with some take out. But just as she was debating with her thoughts, she felt someone sitting beside her, and at first Casey was going to ignore it, but the strong scent of expensive perfume invaded her nose, making her turn to find a blond woman sitting right beside her. She couldn’t help but stare for a moment, finding the woman beautiful. But when she noticed she had been staring for long, she returned her stare to her almost empty glass.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

Casey felt chills running down her spine at the woman’s voice, she was not expecting it…she was not exactly expecting to have any interaction with this woman or anyone at all. “Uh…I think I’m done with drinks.”

The blonde chuckled. “Seems like you do know how to count them.”

Casey nibbled on her lip as she turned to look at the blonde again, a small grin on her face. “You don’t?”

“Not when I had a hard day.” The blonde turned to look at her, offering a small grin.

“Well, then I get why you wouldn’t count them.” Casey chuckled.

The blonde nodded. “You got those days too?”

Casey nodded. “When you’re a lawyer…you gotta have them.”

The blonde raised a brow. “Seems like we got the same job then.” She grinned.

Casey squinted her eyes as she grinned. “Wait…I’ve seen you somewhere.”

The blonde chuckled as she extended her hand. “Alex Cabot.”

“Right…Sex Crimes.” Casey smiled, extending her hand to take Alex’s. “Casey Novak.”

“Nice to meet you.” Alex grinned, letting go of Casey’s hand. “White Collar?”

“Actually, yes.” Casey nodded.

“Thought I had seen you somewhere.” Alex took her drink and took a sip of it, never taking her eyes away from Casey.

Casey couldn’t help but stare into those beautiful blue eyes, almost as if they were enchanting her in some way. “So, what brings Alex Cabot into this bar?”

Alex shrugged. “Tough case. Needed a drink.”

“I don’t think I could ever do Sex Crimes. So I respect you for that.”

Alex smiled. “Well…you learn to deal with it…” she huffed a chuckle as she raised her drink. “And this right here helps.”

Casey chuckled as she nodded. “I’m sure.” She smiled softly.

No, Casey was not planning on staying more at the bar. No, she did not plan on having more drinks. No, she was not expecting to engage in a conversation with someone, let alone such a beautiful girl as Alex. She has heard a lot of things about Alexandra Cabot, some rumors, some facts, she never listened to the gossip, but when she saw Alex in a press conference and the next time she found herself in the same courtroom, her curiosity for Alex started, and now she had spent easily two hours talking about everything with her, and she was fascinated. They decided to avoid talking about cases, so they talked about other things, and laughs soon joined in the conversation, giving them both a feeling of comfort. And no…Casey did not expect for Alex to ask if she wanted to get out of the bar; actually…she figured at some point that it could happen, but what she did not expect was for her answer to be yes.

Casey moaned the moment her back hit the wall, her eyes staring into blue one as her hands worked their way to Alex’s coat, pulling it off and throwing it somewhere on the floor. Alex’s hands soon found Casey’s neck and pulled her for another heated kiss, her body pressing against Casey’s. “Alex…” she breathed out once she felt Alex’s lips traveling down her neck and finding her pulse point.

“Yes baby?” Alex whispered as she looked up to look into green eyes, panting as they stared at each other. “We can stop if you want to.”

Casey breathed heavily as she wetted her lips, her eyes landing on Alex’s swollen lips and back to blue eyes. She shook her head, a small grin on her face. “I want you to fuck me.”

Alex smirked. “As you wish.”

********************

“So, Novak.” Jessica grinned as she stood at the doorframe of Casey’s office.

Casey looked up from her paperwork and furrowed her brows. “Yes?”

“I got a question for you.” Jessica walked inside the office, the grin never leaving her face.

“No, I am not going to drink with you guys again. You left me. Plus, I’m going to the cages today.” Casey returned her attention to the paperwork.

“That wasn’t my question, but good to know that we won’t be counting on you again.” Jessica chuckled. “Why do you suddenly look so happy?”

Casey frowned, looking up at Jessica again. “I look happy?” Jessica nodded. “I…don’t think I look any different than I have before.”

“You’re getting laid, aren’t you?” Jessica smirked.

“I-“ Casey scoffed. “Jessica! What the hell? No! I’m not. I’ve been having good cases, free time, I get to do more out of work.”

“Oh, you get to do someone…”

Casey rolled her eyes. “Please get out.”

Jessica laughed as she walked to the door. “I know you, Novak!”

Casey cleared her throat as she tried to focus back on her paperwork. Yes, it was true. It had been three months since Casey started seeing Alex after work. After that night, both of them had exchanged numbers after Casey decided to leave in the middle of the night. No, it wasn’t her first time being with a girl, she had always suspected that she liked girls but never actually got with one because her parents expected her to be with a guy. So it was no surprise that she was fascinated by Alexandra Cabot. She knew she was going against her own words, saying that she was not that kind of person, that she’d mainly focus on her job, but after some drinks and engaging in conversation with Alex, she couldn’t help it; and she didn’t regret any of it. But that was it…just a hook up. Nothing more. She was not ready to get into anything serious, it could never be anything serious. She was sure she was not the first attorney to fall into Alex’s bed, as bad as that sounded, but she heard the rumors. So no, this was nothing more than a hook up and that was it.

As for Alex, she knew the rumors that went around in her own office, she knew the nickname that was now known even at the precinct, she knew her reputation, but she really couldn’t care less about it. It was nothing, they were simply rumors and gossip, she was mature enough to let it get to her, and some of them, were nothing but lied, but again, if they wanted to tell them around, they could, she knew the truth and she knew who she was, and that was it. Yes, she had her hook ups before, she had stopped once she had joined Sex Crimes since she had focused her whole attention in the job, and she barely had any time to focus on her private life. But that night, the night she met Casey, something called her in, and she couldn’t help but go against her own words but noticing how beautiful she was, that beautiful smile she had, that voice and laugh…she got lost. And she knew she wanted more. It was impossible to not want more.

“Come here often?” Alex whispered as she stood behind Casey, smirking at the way she had shivered.

Casey turned to look at Alex and smiled. “Starting to. I come to meet someone.”

“Oh, so you mind if I sit with you while you wait?” Alex grinned.

“Not at all.” Casey grinned as she placed Alex’s drink in front of her. “Thought I’d get ahead.”

“Oh, thank you.” Alex smiled as she sat down. “Had a good day?”

Casey nodded. “It was slow. Yours?”

Alex sighed before she took a sip of her drink. “Delightful.”

Casey nodded again, looking down at her drink. “That’s why you called?”

Alex furrowed her brows as she looked at Casey. “I wanted to see you.” She offered a smile. “Just needed someone to talk to.”

Casey smiled softly, looking up at Alex. “We can go to my place.”

Alex grinned as she nodded. “Sounds fair.”

It wasn’t the first time that they met at the bar, had two or three drinks, and then left to Alex’s apartment. Most of their nights went like this. Sometimes Alex would go to Casey’s office in her lunch time and make a plan with Casey to meet at night, or Casey went to Alex’s office to confirm if they’d see each other that night. It had now become a routine, for both of them, they barely talked about work, they only asked about their day, had their drinks, and then went to each other’s apartments. Casey debated with her mind daily, saying this was definitely not something she did, that this was definitely not her, but she couldn’t help it; Alex was beautiful, the way she dressed, the way she talked, the way she laughed…the way she moaned Casey’s name, the way she trembled when Casey’s fingers were inside her, the way she came undone and stared at Casey, looking so beautiful underneath her. It was impossible to not want more of that, she couldn’t get enough, and she knew Alex couldn’t either.

Alex kissed Casey’s naked shoulder as she moved to lay down beside Casey. “You good?”

Casey nodded, clearing her throat as she tried to catch her breath. “Good.”

Alex chuckled softly. “Good.” She laid on her side, staring at Casey.

Casey felt Alex’s eyes on her, making her turn to look at Alex, frowning as a smile appeared on her face. “What?”

“Nothing…you’re just beautiful.” Alex smiled.

Casey’s breath hitched as she stared  at Alex, suddenly speechless as she heard the sincerity in her words. “So are you.”

“Thanks.” Alex sighed then, moving to get up from the bed. “Guess this is my cue to leave.”

Casey nibbled on her bottom lip as she sat in bed. “You know…you could…stay. It’s late.”

Alex turned to look at her and smiled softly. “I-“ suddenly her phone went off, making her groan as she stood up and went to find her phone. “Cabot.” She closed her eyes as she sighed. “On my way.” She hung up and turned to look at Casey. “Work.”

Casey sighed. “I understand.” She stared at her the whole time as she collected her clothes and got dressed quickly.

Alex put on her blazer and turned to look at Casey, smiling. “I’ll call you?”

Casey nodded. “Yes.”

Alex bit her lip before she crawled in bed and kissed Casey’s lips. “Sleep well.” She whispered against her lips before she pecked her lips one last time and then grabbed her phone and left the room.

Casey sighed as she heard the door closing, throwing herself back in bed and groaning softly. This was only a hook up. She couldn’t have feelings for Alex, and she didn’t. They just knew each other’s bodies now, they were used to each other, they had a good fuck, and that was it. It was a hook up and nothing more. And it was going to stay that way.

********************

“Heard the news.” Alex grinned as she leaned over Casey’s doorframe.

Casey looked up from her briefcase and smiled, leaning over her desk. “Sorry if I’m gonna take some of your cases.” She grinned.

Alex chuckled as she walked inside, closing the door behind her. “I don’t mind. Not when it’s you.” She grinned.

Casey raised her brow as she bit her lip. “Oh, so if it was someone else, you’d have fought Branch or Liz?” She grinned.

“Maybe.” Alex smirked as she stood in front of Casey, one of her hands going to Casey’s waist and the other stroking her cheek softly. “But now I’ll have you closer.” She whispered softly.

Casey shook her head. “We can’t do this at work, Alex.” She whispered back.

“You sure we can’t?” Alex raised her brow.

Casey grinned as she placed her hands on Alex’s waist, turning her so Alex was leaning over her desk, moving her to sit on it. “We can try it then.”

Alex gasped, her hands gripping Casey’s shoulders. “Thought we couldn’t, Novak.” She chuckled.

“Changed my mind.” Casey smiled as she closed the gap between them, moaning as Alex’s hand wrapped around her and her hand went into Casey’s hair to pull her impossibly closer.

Alex started moving her hands down to Casey’s front, but her phone interrupted them once again. She broke the kiss and leaned her head on Casey’s chest. “Not again.” She whispered.

“Duty calls.” Casey chuckled. She kissed her forehead softly before she stepped away from her. “I need to go to court anyway.”

Alex nodded as she hopped off the desk. “Alright.”

“See you tonight?” Casey smirked. “I’d like to finish what I started.”

Alex grinned. “Sure.” She nodded before she left Casey’s office almost in a hurry, calling Olivia back.

After almost two years of knowing each other, Alex could’ve sworn that there was more between them. Some nights, they stayed in each other’s apartment after many rounds, deciding that it was ‘safer’ for them to not go back to their homes in the early hours. Sometimes they even stayed weekends together, spending the whole day in bed making each other come undone, or just simply talking about everything but nothing at the same time. Alex had been afraid to admit it, she had been in denial for so long, but the reality was…that she was starting to feel something for Casey, and it was so obvious, there was no denial. All those days and nights that they had spent together, all those laughs and smiles they had shared; it wasn’t just a hook up to her, it had become more. But the more they got used to each other, the more she noticed that Casey called her whenever she needed to get off her stress or when she had a bad day. Yes, Alex had done that the first few weeks, but after figuring out that she mostly did it because she wanted to see Casey, it’s when her whole perspective of the situation changed. But she could risk what they had if she said anything, so it was better to keep it to herself and continue as they were. What could possibly go wrong?

And as for Casey, she had been nervous when Branch had called her to his office to let her know that she’d be moving to Sex Crimes with Alex. They had figured out that more than usual, they were loaded with cases and sometimes Alex couldn’t keep up with all of them, so they figured that bringing someone to help wouldn’t be a bad idea. And now she’d be seeing Alex daily, they’d be working together. The idea wasn’t that bad, she already saw Alex daily, but not exactly in the building, now they’d be working together, not only hooking up. She was afraid that the more time they spent together, the more she would let herself get lost, and she couldn’t allow that.

The first few weeks went away so quickly. They had someone fallen into an easy routine and even met up for lunch to help each other out with the cases. Thanks to Alex, Casey was not being accepted by the squad, she knew that they were used to Alex, and Casey somehow worked in her own way and that was something that the squad hadn’t agreed on at the beginning, but with the help of Alex, they were getting used to it. For a moment, she noticed the way that Alex had entirely changed since the first time they had met; she was more…soft. Casey couldn’t deny that she liked it, but she was also not sure that she could buy it. They gave each other what they needed, they gave each other pleasure, they gave each other a space to get off the stress of the day or the week, what they had was nothing but sex. She was sure Alex wanted nothing more than that. And she confirmed it soon enough when she saw her with Olivia.

It was notorious the first day when Olivia was basically pushing away Casey, at first she thought that she had just made a bad impression, but then she saw her with Alex. She acted so differently with her, she got so close to Alex, and Alex to her, and their conversations were so easy, Olivia would do anything that Alex asked her to do, and Alex would give in to whatever Olivia asked from her, but if it was Casey, everything would be different. She noticed the way Alex seemed so relaxed with Olivia, the way she just enjoyed having her in her office, and they could stay there for hours. And that’s when Casey understood, that’s when she confirmed her doubts and answered her own questions; it was only a hook up, nothing more.

Alex smiled as she opened the door to find Casey standing there. “Hey.”

Casey smiled. “Hi.” She walked into the apartment and turned to look at Alex, waiting for her to close the door. She took her coat off and sighed softly. “Day okay?”

“It was.” Alex smiled as she turned to look at Casey. She felt something was off with Casey, so she only stood there and crossed her arms. “Was your day okay?”

“Sure.” Casey smiled. “Should we go ahead?”

Alex furrowed her brows, tilting her head. “Are you in a hurry?”

Casey huffed a chuckle. “C’mon, Alex. We both know why I’m here. So, might as well just save time and get on with it.”

Alex felt like she had been punched right on her chest as she looked at Casey. “Casey…I didn’t call you for that. I just…thought maybe we could just spend the night here instead of going to a bar.”

“We know how that ends anyway, at the bar or here.” Casey shrugged. “Or…did you call me to tell me you don’t wanna do this anymore?”

“I’m…confused as to what is happening right now.” Alex huffed a chuckle as she shook her head. “Did I do or say something?”

Casey nibbled on her lip as she looked away from Alex. “Alex…” she sighed. “Why are we pretending like this is something when we both know this is just a casual thing?” She looked back at Alex. “We’ve been doing this for so long now, we fell into a routine but…the result is the same. We end up in bed and then we start over again.”

“So…it’s just a casual thing.” Alex nodded.

“Isn’t it?” Casey raised her brows. “Tell me I’m wrong. I’m-“ she shook her head as she looked down at her coat. “I don’t really do dating. And since we started this, I made it clear. So yes…it is just sex.” She looked back at Alex with a serious look.

Alex nodded again as she looked away. “I’m glad to know now.”

Casey nodded. “Maybe we should give each other some time.”

“I think you’re right.” Alex bit her lip as she tried to avoid Casey’s stare. “Maybe you should go.”

“Okay.” Casey said softly as she put back her coat, walking to the door. She stopped for a moment to look at Alex who was still looking away. “I’ll…see you at the office.” She said almost in a whisper as she opened the door and left the apartment.

Once she heard the door closing, Alex couldn’t help the tears that rolled down her cheeks. She was afraid that this day would come, and she begged anyone that it would never come, but here she was now. She knew since the first moment that it was wrong to let herself feel anything at all for Casey, she knew that it would hurt at the end, but she still let herself get lost in Casey because she had a bit of hope that maybe, just maybe, she could be wrong and that there was a chance. But there wasn’t. Casey now confirmed it; it had been just sex and nothing more, and there was nothing else she could do about it. She lost what they had…she lost Casey.

[sillylittlestoryblog]

Meet cute

Greg Hirsch x Reader

Warnings: its cheesy romcom stuff, english isnt my first language, this isnt canon to succession at all, might be somewhere season one but shiv is working at waystar, use of y/n

Fluff nothing more.

Summary: Reader is Shivs assistant and has to bring some secret documents to Toms new assistant. He is your bosses cousin and has been working at waystar only for a few weeks. You are more than curious to meet him.

Notes: i loveeee succession and i love Cousin Greg the egg. I am not ready for it all to end. And damn the last episode is gonna air one day before my birthday. Another reason to cry at my birthday…it happens every year. Also none of my friends are into succession ( such bad friends ) so if you want to be my succession bestie pls dm me. Thx for reading this. And if you like it, just so you know, comments are like long hugs to writers :)

A loud knock on your office door interrupted your work. For hours you sat on the same boring documents and your head was literally glowing. The day had not started very well. After you arrived late at the trainstation and had missed your train, you felt you already knew that today would be awful. As you walked out into the New York winter air with cold ears, you almost collided with someone else. Why didn't this giant pay more attention to where he was going?

At Starbucks you quickly bought an overpriced coffee and two bagels. One for you and one for your boss. You had overslept and didn't really have time for breakfast and even though you were actually quite good at your job, you could get fired at any time. Waystar was not known for treating its employees well. The longer you worked there the more you hated the company. But you couldn't just quit. You have to pay rent and have enough money to keep you and your two cats alive. You needed that job. That means, that it happened more than often that you had to skip eating or sleeping. The main thing is that your boss has her hot coffee and snacks on her expensive coffee table every morning. And you need to do your job as her assistant perfectly, without ever being late.

But most mornings she wasn't even in the office. you could only wonder what happened to the cold coffee.

About four hours after you ran sweaty and red-headed to your little office to spend the next few hours in front of your computer, there was a loud knock on the door.

"Heyy, Good Morning Y/N. Nice to see you. Can you please bring these to my husband on the other floor. I have a meeting now. See you.“

And away she went again. Shiv Roy had handed you a pack of documents, at least thats what you thought it was. You read the word confidential printed on the envelope in red color. Even tho you were in the middle of something, you decided to take a break and bring that envelope to Shivs husband.

You weren't sure where it suddenly came from, but on the way to the elevator you got a little nervous. Not only because of Shiv's somewhat strange husband. Tom Wabsgans had given you the ick from the beginning. He was tall and rich, like almost every other man who worked here. And yes money can make people a bit peculiar. But Tom... he was on another level. You had once heard him yell at a co-worker for "breathing too loudly". Also, there were rumors going around that he offered to give some employees a fortune, if they would be his "human furniture" for a week. If anyone in this building would claim that Tom had a piece of meat cut out of his own body to eat as a steak, no one would be surprised. You least of all. He gave you a strange feeling every time. But your nervousness came from something else.

The day before, Inej, one of your best friends who used the office next to yours, had whispered to you at lunch that she had seen tom's new assistant. She had grinned and said:

"so if I wasn't already in a happy committed relationship with this awesome guy, I would have given him my number for sure. Fuck Y/N, he's really cute."

Since this talk you had caught yourself wanting to know more about this guy. Because cute wasnt how you would describe most guys who worked for Logan Roy. Most of them where sleazy, moneyhungry guys with big watches and tailored suits. They catcalled all the women who worked with you, honestly you hated their guts.

Inej had sent you a message the night before. She'd heard from two of Tom's coworkers that the assistant was probably part of the Roy family. A cousin or nephew or something. If this rumor was true, then it was definitely the hottest gossip in ages.

The elevator ride didn't take long and with the envelope in your hand you walked confidently towards Tom's office. You had already raised your hand to knock on his office.

But it should not come so far, from the side came a great force that almost made you fall. But before you could curse again the shitty "all women must wear high heels rule" and hit the floor, someone held you by your waist.

"Oh god sorry. Uh. I'm really sorry about that."

You had no idea how you could have almost been knocked over for the second time today. You were kinda getting angry. Why was this day so awful.

"oh fuck, can't you be more careful?!"

When you turned to the side you almost regretted your loud harsh tone.

In front of you stood a tall guy, brown hair, crooked tie and an apologetic and quiet adorable puppy look on his face.

„So, uh, i m sorry. Truly? uh…Truliest.“

You didnt really know how to respond. Damn that guy is tall.

„Wait, uh, are you Y/N? You know because i, uh , i didnt stalk you or something, i saw you on a photo, this coworker, uh, i think her name was Inej, she showed me a picture, like of you guys, and - well i just assumed that might be, uh, you? And i…“

„What?“

„I am Greg, i uh work for Tom, and yeah so yesterday- i talked to this wom…“

„No i get that part. You really need to look where you are going…Greg.“

You were putting on a little smile. Inej was right, he was cute, and apparently also very clumsy. And nervous?

Greg was tucking his hair behind his ear. He didnt looked that shocked anymore. A small smile creeping on his face.

Damn. You really liked that face.

„I am really sorry, Y/N. I kinda, uh, feel like i owe you something?“

You were blushing. Nervously you looked down. He is so tall he probably can’t see the blushing like that.

„Would you maybe give this to Tom?- its from Shiv. And probably important.“

You handed him the envelope. You could have sworn your hands touched. You felt like cringing. This feels like you are in a stupid romcom. Stop blushing and smiling this isnt pride and prejudice.

If you hadn’t looked down while being flustered, you could have witnessed Greg’s cheeks turning a little red too.

Nervously he gave you a thumbs up.

„ sure. Uh - and, eh, maybe i could buy you something for lunch? I don’t know… there is this really cool pizza place i always wanted to go, i … sorry, maybe you don’t even like pizza. Eh i just thought we could maybe go there? And i would pay - obviously. -Not because i am a man or something, uh like i am a feminist and i believe you could pay for yourself, but, uh i you know almost knocked you over because i didnt look where i was going…“

His nervous rambling continued. Your little smirk turned into a genuin smile.

„Hey Greg.“

„Uh yeah?“

„I would love that.“

On the way back to your office, you forgot how horrible this day started. With a smile on your face you pushed the button to go up. Entering the elevator you looked around, he was still standing where you left him. Grinning to himself. You saw him looking back up to search for your face, right when the elevator doors closed in front of you.

[monsterswithimagines]

Undisclosed Desires - Part 6

Joe Goldberg x female!Reader

Summary: Twenty minutes before he would have met Guinevere Beck, Joe meets you instead. You intruige him, but it will soon become clear that there is something off about you.

Words: 845

Masterlist

Saturday can't come soon enough. I feel like this week has lasted an entire year.

Then it's finally Saturday morning. I'm happy to go to work today, because at the end of the morning shift, you'll be waiting for me. My reward for my work. You won't even mind that I won't have time to change out of my usual clothes - it's a deliberate choice on my end, because you like how I look. You told Nadia about it on Twitter just three days ago.

@MoonShadow_: waarom zijn jongens in boekwinkels altijd zo lekker 😭😭

Which translates to: why are boys in bookstores always so hot

I didn’t realize you were thinking this way, (Y/n). If I'd known, maybe I would have made a move already.

Candace wasn't nearly this hard to read.

Candace wouldn't have been worth all this waiting, though.

I'm not ashamed to admit that Candace was a wrong choice. I thought I saw something in her that wanted to be known by me, to be taken care of, but I was wrong. You, on the other hand, are unknown to almost everyone except your dear childhood friend. It must be so lonely. But when you're with me, you won't have to be alone anymore.

Ethan notices I'm distracted today, but he doesn't say anything about it. He's happy to take over the regular customer service duties if it means I'll run up and down the basement stairs carrying heavy books from eight to twelve. Ethan is the kind of guy who swears by a Kindle.

You'd never use a Kindle, would you? I can't imagine it. You buy books way too often to bother about something as asinine as digital reading.

Maybe if I tell you the Kindle is everything that's wrong with modern-day America, you'll laugh and agree with me. But then again, maybe you'll just think I'm a ‘gatekeeping dick’. That's what you called someone on Twitter when they said The Secret History was awful and that only insufferable, snobbish, self-absorbed, classist rich kids would ever think to read this shit. Don't kill me, (Y/n), but I kind of agree with the guy. One day you'll see my side.

I kind of agree with you too, though: the world needs to learn how to read again, it doesn't matter where they start.

I used to judge people for what they bought at Mooney's, but now I don’t anymore. At least they're reading. You're making me a better person that way. You're making me realize that even if people are just reading whatever bullshit they saw on TikTok, at least they're reading.

It's one pm, and you're late. I'm not too upset about it, though. You texted me about an hour ago.

YOU: omigod joe!!!

YOU: my boss is super pissed i forgot to send a client this important email

YOU: i gotta fix my mistake i might be like

YOU: 15 mins late

ME: Don't worry. Take your time.

YOU: 😅

I didn't reply to your smiley. What on earth am I meant to say to a picture of a smiling face? Besides, a smiley isn't worth nearly as much as your actual smile.

And there you are.

Only ten minutes late. It could have been worse.

You look flushed like maybe you ran here, and your hair is a mess so you've covered it with a beanie again, but you also look so happy to see me. I'm happy to see you, too.

You hug me.

“I'm so sorry,” you say. I'm not sure what you're apologising for, because I'm still trying to get over the fact that you hugged me. “I've had such a crazy morning.”

“You're not even that late,” I assure you, which is true. Candace used to be hours late, sometimes. Sometimes she didn't show up at all. “Do you mind giving me a minute? I want to wash my hands and stuff.”

I don't need a minute. I've been ready to leave for a while now. But I think you might need some time, and I can tell you won't ask for it.

“Yeah, yeah,” you say. “No problem.”

So I turn and I head to the bathroom. This means leaving you alone with Ethan, which may be risky. Ethan might say something stupid, or something about me. But then again, I don't think he'd ruin ‘getting some tail’ for me.

In the bathroom, I wash my hands and check my hair. I look how I always do after a shift at Mooney's, but I think that's fine.

You look beautiful, (Y/n). It's too soon to tell you something like that, but you do.

I emerge. You look calmer now. You're waiting in the office - Ethan must have let you in - sitting with your hands behind your head and your feet on the table. Stretched like that, I can see a bit of the skin above your jean shorts.

It's deliberate. You're taunting me.

“Hey,” you say. “All ready?”

You're wearing make-up. You don't usually wear make-up.

“All ready,” I agree.

[sunshine-on-my-mind]

Hey, sweet Meera.

How about some Bucky

And snacks (this is a Baklava Cronut, but any pastry will do)

Kisses

a/n: can i be cringy and say i don’t know which one is yummier? ahahha no sorry but omg i love this. it inspired me to write this AU hehe i really hope you like it.

James Bucky Barnes, spoilt and rich, son of CEO George Barnes, has everything. He is living his best life from on frat party to another from one girl to another, the famous playboy loved his life.

Until one day, few months before his graduation, his father called him in his office.

“You’ve had your fun, now it’s time to get serious” Bucky rolled his eyes

“Dad, I’m not joining your company” the senior Barnes laughed at that

“oh son, you really think you’re fit for my company? you are a spoilt little brat, living his life on his old man’s money. it’s time to change that.”

This made Bucky curious

“Go get yourself a job, any job, I don’t care, but if you can’t get yourself a job by the end of the month, then you’re out.”

“Out? what do you mean out?”

“Out of my will, out of your penthouse that I bought for you, well… everything actually.”

And that his Bucky Barnes found himself working in this coffee shop. He hates it I mean how do people even do this? And the customers are the worst, but he can’t complain or else he will be fired.

“This sucks” he mutters under his breath as he was making ‘oat caramel macchiato with mocha drizzle’ or whatever the shit the customer has ordered.

“Here’s your coffee” Bucky gives a fake smile to the customer, ugh they are lucky to receive even a fake smile from him.

Evening rolled in, it’s almost time for Bucky’s shift to end, finally. He’s cleaning up the counter, muttering curses under his breath when the cafe door opens again.

“Fucks sake wh-“ his rant stops in between when he sees you across the counter. Your eyes focused on the pastries displayed. And his eyes focused on you.

You look up at him and he looks away, he doesn’t want to get caught staring like some creep. Bucky clears his throat and you smile at him. How can someone else’s smile make him feel happy? He asks himself.

“Hi, um, can you help me with selecting a pastry? They all look so good I’m confused.” You ask him with that pretty smile of yours

Now if it was any other customer he probably would have rolled his eyes and said whatever came to his mind but in this case, he does want to talk to you.

“Well I’m a basic guy myself, quite love the brownies and cinnamon rolls, the apple pie too, but um, we started doing these Baklava Cronuts recently and they are quite popular so you can try one.” Bucky says with a smile, a genuine smile, after a while, gosh he doesn’t remember the last time he actually couldn’t stop smiling, he feels shy.

“One Baklava Cronut it is then” you give him your order “and can I please get an iced coffee as well?”

Bucky feels like saying ‘I’ll give you all the pastries and coffees if I could’- a smile plastered on his face.

You take a seat and wait for your order, Bucky told you he’d bring it over.

As Bucky starts making your coffee he cannot help but steal glances at you, you’re sitting there by the window, the evening sun casting a beautiful glow on your face. This is something Bucky would have scoffed at in another situation because he doesn’t really understand love, but there you are and he cannot stop staring.

It’s not that Bucky has not dated beautiful women before, some were models, literally but there is something about you which is giving him butterflies and he is not yet sure if he likes it.

“Here you go” Bucky smiles and places your order in front of you on the table.

“Tha- oh uh, I didn’t order the brownie.”

“It’s on the house.” The smooth Bucky who has flirted with many many women is gone, and remaining is a shy bucky who cannot stop smiling.

“oh,” and that’s when you bite your lip and Bucky feels his eyes are glued to your lips.

“Thank you…” You trail off to find his name tag. “Bucky”

The moment you say his name Bucky is gone. He wants to hear you say his name, again, and again. Has his name ever sounded so good?

“I’m- I don’t know if this is too forward but um, would you like to go out with me sometime?” Bucky is flustered while trying to ask you out. He looks at you with his pretty blue eyes and you felt like you’re melting into a puddle.

“Yeah, I’ll like that.” You smile.

Bucky feels like jumping in happiness. But tries to play it cool, you know scratch that he doesn’t want to be cool he wants to be happy and shy and spend time with you, get to know you.

He gives you his number and asks you to text him when you’re free.

After you leave the coffee shop that day, Bucky feels keeps checking his phone, excited, nervous, anxious, and after finishing his shift when he is going back home, when he feels like he is losing his mind, his phone chimes

you: hey, i’m free this friday if you’d like to meet x

Bucky smiles, almost giggles. Quickly types back.

Bucky: Sounds perfect. Can’t wait to meet you again.

Maybe working at the coffee shop isn’t that bad. He smiles to himself and drives back home, counting days till Friday.

[whowantslovergirl]

Maneater

Satrou Gojo x reader (reader is female with she/her pronouns)

warnings: cursing, mad shit talking, reader uses sex to get things she wants, suggestive talk, other lovers, this will be in your pov but does switch, and that’s it hope you enjoy my lovers ^this means start the song 💋 probably not proofread 🤪

miscellaneous masterlist

Summary: Everyone tries to warn Gojo about his new girlfriend since she is titled ‘the maneater’

posted: August 20,2023

I was walking through the outlets. You know the rich outlets. I always walk through rich people spots to find my next victim. It’s easy to find one, I mean I would say I’m absolutely stunning and people would say the same. I have beautiful skin, a beautiful body, beautiful smile, and anything a guy could want. People would say Ima maneater but who cares and also here’s a Y/N tip.

Men are useless and is nothing but a piece of meat.

_____

As I’m walking I see him.

Gojo Satrou. CEO of Jujutsu Tech.

And one of the richest men in all of Tokyo. ^

Take it back, take it back

Everybody look at me, me

I walk in the door you start screaming

Come on, everybody what you here for?

He walks into this cafe by himself so no one to interfere. Perfect! Y/N tip #2.

Always go up to a guy who has no one with him so no one can cockblock.

God those glasses look great on him.

“Hello I just wanted to say your eyes are absolutely beautiful.” He said coming up to me. Oh wow a guy never came up to me before. “Thank you, your eyes are also very pretty.”

He offered to let me sit down at his table. We had a conversation. He paid for my meal.

We were about to walk out. “Can I get your number beautiful?” You looked at him. “I don’t even know your name playboy.”

I did but he doesn’t know that. “It’s Gojo. And what’s yours?”

I pretend to look confused. “Your name sounds sooooo familiar.” I took a pause. “You’re the CEO of Jujustu Tech. I use your electric batteries for my vibrator! It last for like forever!” He just looked down shyly. Y/N tip #3.

Use sex to get what you want. Pussy is power.

“Yea that’s cool but what’s your name beautiful?”

“I’ll tell you on our date playboy.” I gave him my number and left.

Move your body around like a nympho

Everybody get your neck to crack around

All you crazy people, come on, jump around

I wanna see you all on your knees, knees

After a few dates with Gojo or should I say Satoru I got him wrapped my freshly manicured finger. He paid for them. Now I’m with my friend Ami. My little hacker. She basically just gives me info about the guys I date. Then when the time is right she hacks their accounts and sends their money to our bank accounts.

“You scored Satoru Gojo!”

“Yea who do you think paid for these 70 dollar nails.” I said showing her my nails. “Oh my god! We’re gonna be rich!” She says walking around her apartment while clapping.

You either wanna be with me or be me (come on, now)

Maneater, make you work hard

Make you spend hard, make you want all of her love

She's a maneater, make you buy cars

Gojo invited me to this gala or whatever the fuck it’s called. We walked in and some people gave me dirty looks. They obviously know who I am. Which is not a good thing. Some people called Gojo over. “Hey I’ll be right back pretty.” He gave me a peck on the lips and I went to the bathroom to call Ami.

Gojo went over to his friends. Suguru Geto and Nanami Kento.

“Why are you with her?” Nanami asked.

“What? Y/N? What’s wrong with her? Did she reject you Mimi?” He said with a baby voice teasing his friend.

“She’s a maneater make you buy cars and cut cards.” Geto responded.

Then Gojo remembered that he bought you a porsche in your favorite color two weeks ago.

**Flashback**

“Surprise!” He uncovered my eyes and I saw a porsche. “Oh my god!” I quickly ran to the car as fast as I can in heels.

He smiled when you screamed in delight when you saw the inside.

He saw you run towards him almost tripping and you jumped on him.

“So I take it that you like it?”

“I love it Satoru! And I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Poor baby

Make you cut cards, make you fall real hard in love

She's a maneater, make you work hard

Make you spend hard, make you want all of her love

She's a maneater, make you buy cars

Satoru has been working nonstop just so he can make you happy. After the porsche purchase his bank went crazy on him saying he needs to stop making big purchases. So they deactivated his card.

Assholes.

_____

Here he was cutting his card that he only made big purchases on. He was in office and then you walked in with a plate of food.

“Toru what’s wrong?” You said sitting on his lap. “My bank deactivated my card because I bought you that porsche.”

This can not happen again.

Make you cut cards, wish you never ever met her at all

And when she walks, she walks with passion

When she talks, she talks like she can handle it

When she asks for something, boy, she means it

Even if you never ever see it

“A what bag.” He asked me. I wanted a birkin bag but he didn’t know what it was.

“A birkin bag. It’s like a really rare bag and there’s only 200 in the whole world.”

“As much as I want to you know my bank doesn’t want me making big purchases anymore. They’re still mad at me for your car and it was a month ago.”

You begged and begged.

But he still said no.

_____

“I felt bad so I got you your bag.”

He gave me the bag and it was exactly what I wanted. “Ahh! Thank you Gojo! But I feel bad.”

“Don’t feel bad darling.”

Everybody get your neck to crack around

All you crazy people come on, jump around

You doing anything to keep her by your side

Because she says she love you, love you long time (come on, now)

After nine months of Satoru and I together. He still doesn’t listen to what people are telling him. Saying that I’m not good news and he should run while he can.

But he doesn’t care.

You love him and he loves you.

Maneater, make you work hard

Make you spend hard, make you want all of her love

She's a maneater, make you buy cars

Make you cut cards, make you fall real hard in love

He was at a party and you went out with your friends and people are still trying to warn him.

“You know Haruto?” Gojo nodded. “Yea all his money mysteriously disappeared.”

“Well guess who was his last lover.”

She's a maneater, make you work hard

Make you spend hard, make you want all of her love

She's a maneater, make you buy cars

Make you cut cards, wish you never ever met her at all

Gojo was now thinking. Were you really the reason that the richest man in Tokyo got bankrupted? There’s no way. You wouldn’t do something like that. He will just ask you when you get home.

Come on now

Maneater, make you work hard

Make you spend hard, make you want all of her love

She's a maneater, make you buy cars

“Hey Y/N?” You look up. “Yes Toru?”

“Are you what they call the maneater?”

How the fuck did he find that out?!

Make you cut cards, make you fall real hard in love

She's a maneater, make you work hard

Make you spend hard, make you want all of her love

She's a maneater, make you buy cars

Ok Y/N be cool. Y/N tip #4.

Never let anyone think they got you.

“What makes you say that?”

He just scoffed. “The bags, cars, nails, phones. What’s all that about?”

“So it’s my fault you bought all that stuff?!”

“Yea it is!”

I just looked at him shocked. And left.

He was right of course but it still hurt.

Make you cut cards, wish you never ever met her at all

No, never ever met her at all (what you sayin', girl?)

You wish you never ever met her at all (what you sayin', girl?)

You wish you never ever met her at all (what you sayin', girl?)

After your falling out with Gojo. He started to notice that his money was slowly decreasing.

Shouldn’t have fucked with the maneater.

You wish you never ever met her at all (come on)

You wish you never ever met her at all

You wish you never ever met her at all

You wish you never ever met her at all

“You are dirty!” Ami exclaimed. “You are mad at him because he figured you out. And you want me to take 500,000 each week?!”

“Yes. I don’t care if it’s unethical, plus we get 250,000 each week.” I smiled.

“He wished never ever met me.”

You wish you never ever met her at all

She's a maneater

A maneater

(I've been around the world, I ain't never seen a girl like this)

Gojo was working extra hard to pay off the money he lost. His bank has no idea on how to stop it and he doesn’t want a loan because what if he doesn’t have enough money to pay off.

He wants to earn it all by himself.

He has no idea who or what is causing this.

She's a maneater

A maneater

(I've been around the world, I ain't never seen a girl like this)

She's a maneater

It’s all gone. All his money is gone. He no longer has his playboy lifestyle. He still has enough money for an apartment and three bedroom apartment. 1,500 a month it’s doable.

He’s sitting in his living room then he sees you on the news. You are Takamis new girlfriend. Then he realized.

They were right.

You were the maneater.

A maneater

(I've been around the world, I ain't never seen a girl like this)

An: YALL THIS SHIT RIGHT HERE I was supposed to post in like july early august but saw Barbie (10/10) and Oppenheimer also (10/10) went on a trip then went back to school then I got sick so apologies 🤧 but until I post again my lovers 🤍 *hint: John b x reader*

[elvensixpm]

Just finished reading Valley of The Dolls and like What. The. Fuck.

Okay. Emotional roller coaster the entire way through— I was not expecting it to be such a heavy read? Okay, it was funny at some parts; but most of the time when conflict arose, I felt so frustrated and sad, especially during Anne and Jennifer's parts.

SPOILERS:

content warning for suicide and pills

Lyon Burke:

When Lyon Burke was first introduced, I knew he was going to be the Main love interest for Anne. There's just that level of detail given to his introduction, and Anne's view of him that really stood out to me, so I knew he was going to be a major character in her life. Anne is so head-over-heels in love with this man— and damn! The way she described him in the beginning, I would be too!

That aside, there waa always the little red flags that stood out to me that indicated Lyon Burke was more of a 'free-bird' kinda guy. I don't believe he truly wanted to settle down with Anne. He loved her, but like her— his own freedom and self-discovery was more important. Moments like:

“I mean working for Henry. Living in New York. But what do you want to do, Lyon?”

He stretched his long legs under the table. “Be dreadfully rich, for one thing. Sit in some lovely spot in Jamaica, have several beautiful girls who look exactly like you to look after me and knock out a best-selling novel about the war.”

And

“Hello . . . is someone on?” Lyon’s voice clipped through the wires.

She was frightened. He sounded angry.

“Is it Elizabeth?”

Elizabeth! She stared into the phone stupidly.

“Come now, this is a juvenile thing to do,” Lyon said coldly. “Elizabeth, if you want to talk, say something or I’ll hang up.”

Really were foreshadowing of the fact that he would never truly stay loyal to her in the first place— he would love her, yes, in a twisted, strange sort of love, but never truly stay faithful to her in the way Anne always wanted.

Boo! He's a well-written character, but I still hate him!

I think I'm just irked by the fact he cheated on her twice in the last fifty pages of the book— right after they got married and had their baby girl. At least he is a decent father, although barely. He knows Anne will never leave him, because she loves him/loved him too much, and it would be a great burden to their daughter. So Anne just stays the loyal wife he can return to when he's had his fun toying around with other women.

Anne, ultimately, has more power than him. She 'bought' him, she's the millionaire, and I feel like his ego was threatened— so he turns to cheating on her for some semblance of control; he gets to be the bigger one in his other relationships.

Neely O'Hara:

Oh, Neely O'Hara. Where to begin with you?

At the beginning I quite liked her. She was spunky, enthusiastic and quite pitiable! She was seventeen just trying to make a name for herself and find love on the way. Well, she got it fairly early in the book— and then she became greedy. Far too greedy, and we see her become just like Helen Lawson, angry, demanding, big. Perhaps even worse!

Neely O'Hara is nothing but a hypocrite in the end.

"...Why, if I was ever a star, I’d be so darned grateful that an audience loved me..."

And yet, when she became the star she dreamed about, she seemingly forgot all of Anne's contributions towards her fame. Anne was the one who introduced Neely to Helen Lawson— and that got her a big break into the scene. Anne gave her advice, support, and was repaid back by Neely sleeping with her husband by the end of the book.

I absolutely despise Neely's character, but I adore her from a writer's standpoint. She perfectly mirrors Helen Lawson, except Helen was maybe more respectable than Neely was.

I also find it so difficult to wrap my head around the fact she cheated on Mel, and was almost like an absentee mother to her twins.

I think we first see the beginnings of her self-destruction when she moved to California with Mel— where we see her beginning to take the pills/dolls and cut off fattening foods to help her lose weight. From the way it was written, Mel is worried for his wife's health, and I think is very (understandably) upset at her change in attitude after she finally 'made it big'.

He tells her she shouldn't lose weight and that she's fine as she is, but this action is scolded by Neely. She considers him a drag, and then reveals she's been cheating on him with Ted. This was such a shocker to me, because I really (foolishly) thought Neely was serious about finding love.

Neely is selfish, because she constantly wants 'better' things for herself and doesn't really care about hurting other people. Not Anne, not Mel, only herself. This might be explained by whatever mental illness she has, but honestly! She's excellent at riling people up.

Even during her attempted suicide it seems like it's all for show— she wants herself to have a better funeral than Jennifer's, she's constantly just competing and vying for attention. To make herself look good. She blames God for the hole she's dug herself into and only backs out at the last minute when she realizes she might actually die.

Okay. Let's stop it at that. I really don't like her, but damn— she's so good at making you angry!

Jennifer North:

Oh, my sweet, sweet Jennifer.

Safe to say I loved her story. Jennifer is no saint, but I think she and Anne share some of the same likeness— and I think Jennifer is a character that can be easily sympathised with.

Throughout the story, we can see how her physical appearance, mostly her breasts, are so important to her. We see it in the way she massages them and does exercises every night to keep them perky; the way she uses them as a weapon against Tony Polar to make him give her what she wants; with Senator Winston Adams at the end of her life. Throughout the book, from the beginning where she was introduced, to the end of her life, there was always an emphasis on her breasts— her only real assets, because she had no talent other than looking attractive.

I find her to be a rather pitiable character, because honestly, it feels like she's doing what she does just to keep that level of high-life she's always maintained— relying on men to fund her lifestyle even though it seems she despises it sometimes, because she always knows it's all about her looks.

Towards the end of her life is where things get most interesting. I think Jennifer was truly searching for the same 'true love' that Anne also sought after, and was genuinly happy being with Senator Winston Adams because she felt he loved her for who she was— not because of her body or her pictures/films.

When she gets diagnosed with breast cancer, and needs a mastectomy to remove the malignant tumour in her breast— she is devastated. She fears that Senator Winston Adams will find her repulsive, even if before that he said he only loved her for her mind. This soothes her a bit, but when it's revealed that he didn't actually want babies, and that he was doing it to appease her— that his 'real babies' were her breasts, she was devastated. Devastated because she believed he loved her for more than her looks.

Jennifer's suicide in the end would seem like an attempt to keep the Senator's love; keeping her body free from 'mutilation', eternally perfect in death. In death, she would not age. In death, she stays forever the beauty she was when alive. She is perfect. She is loved. Her body will no longer wither to time.

She commits using pills because it would leave less of a mark on her body.

Side note:

I do believe Jennifer was a bisexual in the story. Her descriptions of sex with Maria (especially during the beginning) was vastly different to the sex she had with the other men in her life. She also mentions that she and Anne would've made a good lesbian couple. Anyways. # Anne x Jennifer ! I find it cute that Anne named her daughter after Jennifer, too. Truly girlfriends in a different, better universe.

“They love my face and body. Not me!” There’s such a difference, Anne.” Then she shrugged. “Maybe I’m just not very lovable.”

“I love you, Jen—really.”

Jennifer smiled. “I know you do. It’s a pity we’re not queer—we’d make a marvelous team.”

Anne laughed. “If we were, maybe it wouldn’t work out this way. As you said, one loves and the other is loved. Or maybe it’s different with Lesbians.”

Jennifer had a far-off look. “No . . . even with queers, one loves and the other is loved.”

[bandedbulbussnarfblat]

Perfection

my latest Daniel/Armand fic. read it below or here

Daniel is pushing fifty. Too old for starry eyed twinks to be flirting with him. He only came to the hotel bar to drink—speaking in public always tears his nerves. The convention is over for the night, and Daniel's lucky enough to have them set him up with a hotel room. He could have just drank from the mini-bar in his room, but drinking alone always feels like defeat.

The twink is cute—blond hair, blue eyes, and built like a swimmer. Maybe Daniel would have considered it, if not for the hero worship in his eyes. And the fact he's a he. Daniel sighs and holds up his left hand. “Look kid, I'm married.”

The kid blushes to his roots. “Right, yeah. Sorry man.”

He slinks away with his tail between his legs. Daniel almost feels bad. He twists the ring on his finger and thinks of calling home; decides against it. The wife isn't speaking to him anyway. He goes to signal the bartender for another drink, but he sets a drink in front of him before he can. He nods further along the bar to where a dark-haired man is sitting. “Looks like you have a fan.”

Daniel takes a look; it's an attractive guy, not quite as young as the last one. Almost as if he can sense him, the man turns to meet Daniel's gaze. Daniel holds up his drink and nods at him. He hasn't had a grasshopper in years. The man nods back and Daniel returns to his thoughts.

He doesn't have peace long.

“Daniel Molloy.” The voice cuts his thoughts short. It's a nice voice, faintly accented and rich and smooth. Probably far better suited for public speaking.

Daniel looks to his right and sees the man who bought him a drink. He's dressed in a smart black suit, expensive from the looks of it. There are a few rings that decorate his finger, though Daniel does note, not one on his left ring finger. “That's my name.”

The man leans against the bar next to him. “I've read all your work.”

It's a bit surprising; he doesn't seem the sort. Most of his fans are journalism students looking to catch their big story. “Yeah? You in town for the convention?”

“Something like that.”

Daniel props up on an elbow. “You don't look like a guy worried about ethics in journalism.”

The man smiles slightly. “Don't I?”

“Don't worry, neither are any of them.” The journalists today didn't have an ethical sense of right or wrong; they had what you could get away with and what you couldn't. The field's gone to shit. But Daniel doesn't say that. This guy looks fairly young; why dash his remaining youthful naivete?

He chuckles lightly. The sound sends a thrill down Daniel's spin. And what was that about? Sure, he hooked up with a few guys in the 70s, but that was about scoring. He's been off men as long as he's been off drugs. He is a practicing heterosexual.

“Are you so jaded?”

“Nah, just old.” Daniel knows to someone this guy's age, he must seem ancient. He feels ancient some days. There's a healthy peppering of gray in his hair these days and he needs to wear his glasses a lot more.

“I'd hardly call you old, Mr. Molloy.”

“Call me Daniel,” Daniel says, then because his mom raised him with manners, “What do I call you?”

The man pauses a second. “Armand.”

“Nice to meet you, Armand,” Daniel says, and gestures the bar tender. “Here, let me buy you a drink. What you like?”

“Red wine. Something aged to perfection.”

There's a certain glint in his eyes when he says it, a smoldering sort of intensity. Daniel can pick up what he's putting down. The question is what to do with it. This isn't the seventies, and he isn't gay. He likes women. Knows you can like both. He's just decided to exclusively like one.

But this man, this Armand. Something about him sets his nerves on fire. He wants to reach out and touch. And hell, he's only here for the weekend. No one will ever have to know.

Daniel picks up his own drink with his left hand, gives the guy plenty of time to see his wedding ring. Then he swallows it back in one gulp. “Ah, you want to take a bottle to my room?”

It isn't his smoothest line, but he's been out of practice for awhile. Getting laid tends to require less work when you're married. Well, it once did. Things haven't been great in that department for awhile.

Armand smiles like a shark. “Lead the way.”

Daniel's stomach twists in knots the whole elevator ride to his floor. Armand keeps looking at him with the same intensity—it's like he wants to eat him. His hands shake when he has to unlock the door, he's so nervous. He actually drops the keys. Armand picks them up at once. “Allow me.”

He slides the key in and turns it smoothly. He enters Daniel's room and sets the keys upon the small table by the door. Daniel follows behind him and flicks on the light. He suddenly realizes he forgot to get glasses. “Shit, I forgot cups. Hope you don't mind passing the bottle back and forth.”

Armand steps closer to him, until Daniel's back is against the door. He laughs, low and amused. “You don't really think I came here to drink, Daniel?”

Daniel swallows thickly. “Guess not.”

He's hardly answered before Armand is kissing him, hands on his face and body pressed along his. He kisses like he wants to devour Daniel, like it's his sole purpose in the world to do so. It's a lot, but it's nice. Daniel likes it. He winds a hand in Armand's hair and tugs his head back, kisses a line up his throat. He mouths over his pulse point and nips at his jaw.

Armand moves back and begins to undress, dropping his clothes to the ground. Daniel stops to stare at him. Once Armand is down to his underwear he smirks at Daniel. “Try to keep up, darling.”

It shakes Daniel out of his stupor and he starts removing his own clothes. Armand crawls onto the bed and looks at his with those big brown eyes. (And something's wrong with that; it niggles at Daniel's brain but he can't figure it out) Armand holds out a hand to him. “Come here, Daniel.”

Daniel can do nothing but obey. There's so much pretty skin on display. He doesn't know where he wants to touch first. He climbs up next to Armand and moves to kiss him. Armand lets him get close then backs up and pushes Daniel unto his back. Then he's mouthing his way down Daniel's chest to the waistband of his boxers. He pulls them down and off without ceremony.

His mouth is warm and wet as it sinks around him and so good, better than Daniel can remember having in awhile. The wife doesn't do this anymore. Armand licks around him, hollowing his cheeks and bobbing his head. He directs Daniel's hand to his hair and Daniel winds his fingers in.

He thrusts up into Armand's mouth, means to apologize but Armand moans when he does it. So Daniel does it again. Armand groans around him. Daniel twists his fingers in Armand's hair and sets about fucking his mouth. He starts with brief, shallow thrusts. But Armand takes him down deeper, and Daniel can't stop himself. He fucks into his mouth with abandon, Armand licking, sucking, and swallowing around him.

Daniel feels his orgasm approaching and tugs on Armand's hair. “I'm gonna come.”

Armand only presses him in deeper. Daniel shoots down the back of his throat, orgasm crashing over him so hard his whole body jerks and he sees stars. He takes a second to catch his breath and sees Armand's hand flying over his own cock.

Daniel appreciates the initiative, but if he doesn't touch Armand's cock he may actually die. He gets up and bats Armand's hand away. “Let me.”

Then Armand is straddling his lap, looking like every wet dream Daniel has been suppressing since the seventies.

He takes Armand in hand—and he's so wet, leaking so much just from sucking his cock. It's hot as hell. Daniel jerks him in short, rough pulls. He kisses all along his neck, down his pretty chest, over his pert little nipples. Armand comes with Daniel's name in his mouth.

After, they both lay back against the headboard. Daniel grabs the wine bottle and takes a swallow. He passes it to Armand, who he figures probably needs to wash his mouth out more. Armand swallows and passes it back. He rolls to his side to face Daniel. His brown eyes (wrong, wrong, wrong) catch Daniel's. “Are you happy, Daniel?”

What a strange question. “Pretty sure you just sucked my soul out through my dick, so yeah. I'm pretty happy.”

Armand stares at him a long moment. “I'm glad.”

Daniel wants to say something back, but he feels so sleepy suddenly. He should probably see Armand out before someone catches them together, but the thought of Armand leaving makes his heart ache. He doesn't know why. He's just met the guy.

Daniel yawns. “I'm going to sleep now. You can stay the night if you want.”

He's asleep before Armand can reply. When he wakes in the morning, he has no memory of ever meeting Armand at all.

[actuallyanansi]

Do all of them except you switch two answers and don't say which ones

ask and ye shall receive

Yellow: i want to live somewhere with decent public transportation, a large public library, and an international airport nearby, ideally with few cops and fewer natural disasters.

Orange: when i'm not in bed, i usually want to be in bed. when i am in bed, i usually want to still be in bed, but at a nice hotel.

Lilac: my dream is to be in an unfamiliar city with striking features, good food, and a long history, alone, with an internet connection and enough english or french to get by. barring that, a beach resort is fine.

Beige: picture it: two guys, curly hair, perfect smiles, and i was making out with both of them surrounded by soft white linens. people kept walking through the background and interrupting, but they never stayed too long.

White: he was a vegan jock i met sophomore year on a local campus app, and his roommate had just moved out. because i lived at home, way off campus, and never hung out with anyone, our hookup was the first time i had actually seen a dorm room at the college i attended. i remember vividly that his mouth tasted like wet dirt, and i lied to my parents about where i was a lot over the week we spent together—not because it really mattered, but because i could. our whatever we had ended...poorly, but what a rush those first few days were. after he ghosted me, i downloaded grindr.

Purple: he was almost miraculously kind (and also very cute), he took my concerns about covid safety seriously, he bought me dinner on j*ff b*zos' dime, and he let me subject him to the incredible pinoy drama gaya sa pelikula (the best limited television series of 2020, argue with your mother). we still talk daily, and i'm so thankful i met him ☺️

Tangerine: physically, i don't have much of a type. i tend to like guys who are grounded and even-keeled, but interesting enough to keep up with me in conversation. guys who can translate those conversations into making out on the couch. guys with rich inner lives who enjoy my attention without needing it, who enjoy giving me attention in a way that isn't just compulsive. guys who are smart when i am stupid

Gray: he was kinda dumb and probably toxic, and i tell myself i didn't know better at the time, but i did! he also gave me strep 💜 (and i still went back 💜)

Green: i was in the car with my aunt and my dad. he was driving us home from visiting nana in hospice. there was a rainbow over I-75 that lasted for miles. they discussed the details of her car insurance, the will we couldn't find, how my uncle, my dad's twin brother, was supposed to inherit her little house. we were still pretending to hope she would wake up; we were no longer pretending to hope she would wake up. my dad pulled off the highway to stop at a wendy's. we had gone without food for most of the day. the three of us ate in the car and spent a few minutes talking about the new strawberry frosty. my aunt had used a coupon to get hers for free. at some point, we kept driving. there was nothing left to talk about. the rainbow was gone by then.

Gold: he was a friend of a friend, and we spent a few weeks carefully circling the elephant in the room before we finally admitted we were into each other. it was extremely goofy how long it took us to work up the courage to even kiss, but i also don’t regret it. he was a sweetheart, and it’s hard not to think back on it fondly ☺️

Black: as a child, for some reason i knew how to pronounce the word nazi before i knew how to spell it. for some reason after i learned how it was spelled i assumed people had been pronouncing it wrong, and i tried to "correct" it while talking to my mom. the way she laughed…i will never recover, i fear 😔

Blue: i cannot remember the last time i spoke to someone i knew in elementary school. baruch hashem 💜

Magenta: around the age of eleven or twelve, i used to legitimately wonder whether my brother would grow up to meet the requirements for the antichrist, and then i'd feel intense guilt about it

Red: i write poetry against my better judgment. i read, sometimes. i watch video essays. i play piano. i cook, i bake, i listen to podcasts, i doomscroll. i start new obsessions and drop them.

Violet: bestie i didn't even plan on attending the college where i did four years of undergrad, so i'm really not pinning too much hope on any specific school in the future. that being said, i am begging all wealthy potential patrons to make grad school feasible. so mackenzie scott, if you're reading this,,

Brown: our culture puts so many expectations around traditional relationships that it's hard not to feel exhausted, and historically i'm also fairly bad at them. fwbs usually offer less risk and more reward, but also i'm trying to move beyond the idea that either of these has to look like anything in particular.

Peach: i've never taken a class from her per se, but mariame kaba has had a greater impact on my education more than just about any other individual person. as far as actual professors go, dr. jen cohen was a pretty good one, and the only econ professor i had who told the truth about how capitalism worked. (thanks for letting me sit in on your class when i wasn't really supposed to!)

Pink: anansi has such a vast mythology and is kind of an aspirational figure in a lot of ways. (not the part about being a spider.) it's about the subversion of the presupposed order of things, the capacity for gracious failure and the potential for unexpected success, the shaping of a story through its telling and retelling...

[dargeereads]

She’s not looking for love but he knows she’s the girl of his dreams.

Brodie, an Until Her novella from New York Times bestselling author Aurora Rose Reynolds & 1001 Dark Nights is now live!

More book worm than Barbie, Reese Shepard is completely caught off guard when the most beautiful man she has ever seen in her life steps in and pretends to be her boyfriend when some creep won’t leave her alone.

She assumes that it’s the last time that she’ll see the chivalrous stranger, but soon he is everywhere she is. And before she knows what’s happening, the two of them are spending all their free time together bonding over their love of the ocean, scary movies, and homemade cookies.

Reese knows that a guy like Brodie Larsen could have any woman he wants and that becomes even more apparent when she finds out that he’s a pro hockey player that’s worth millions of dollars. So to save herself the potential heartbreak she places him firmly in the friend zone.

If only he’d stay there.

The infuriating man starts pushing for more, lots more, and the worst part is she wants to give it all to him including her heart.

Grab your copy today, exclusively on Amazon! Amazon: https://amzn.to/3E40SNG Amazon Worldwide: https://mybook.to/Brodie Amazon Print: https://amzn.to/4dIwUPY

Add Brodie to Goodreads: https://bit.ly/3QJVBl0

Keep reading for a look inside Brodie!

Do you really like baking, or is that something you made up so women would find you endearing?” “No, I enjoy it. It’s relaxing.” He picks up his burger and meets my gaze. “You really like fishing?” “I love it, or rather, I love ice fishing. My—” I cut myself off. “Your?” “When I was growing up, I would go with my best friend’s dad and him almost every weekend in the winter. There is something magical about being in that little hut, waiting for a fish we would cook right there after pulling it out of the water.” I shrug. “I haven’t gone in a long time, but that is one of my favorite memories from when I was a kid.” “Have you ever gone deep-sea fishing?” “No, have you?” “I go whenever I get the chance.” His gaze wanders over my face. “What are you doing tomorrow?” “Nothing. I have the day off.” “Do you want to go out fishing with me?” “Are you serious?” “I never joke about fishing.” “Then, yeah. That sounds like fun.” “All right.” He sets his burger down and takes his cell phone out of his pocket. I watch him type something, and then he sets it aside and resumes eating until it dings a moment later. After he picks it up and checks the screen, his eyes meet mine. “Does eight work for you?” “Sure.” I dunk one of my fries into some ketchup. Dropping his gaze, he quickly texts something back before lifting his burger once more. “We’ll meet the charter company I use in the morning, and they’ll take us out.” “It must be nice to be rich and famous,” I joke, then cringe because it’s obvious that who he is is a sensitive topic for him. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” “Don’t be.” He shrugs. “I deal with that kind of shit from my family all the time.” “They give you a hard time about it?” “Constantly.” He smiles. “My brother is the worst.” “So, when you say you play pro hockey, I’m guessing that means you’re pretty good.” “I don’t suck.” His smile is tinged with a bit of cockiness. “I don’t know much about hockey. How long have you been playing?” “Since I was a kid. My dad bought me my first pair of skates when I was four. I joined my first team when I was seven and have been playing ever since. You’ll have to come to a game when the season starts up.” “I’m not really a fan of sporting events.” I hated watching Kirk play football, so I avoided his games like the plague, which probably made me a pretty crappy girlfriend. I just didn’t enjoy the violent aspects of the sport and would sit there the whole time with a pit in my stomach, knowing that one wrong hit could cause irrevocable damage. And knowing what little I do about hockey, I imagine it would be the same thing. “What sports do you like?” “None.” I tip my head to the side. “That’s a lie. That sport they play in the Olympics, where they sweep that black ball thing with brooms down the ice, is pretty cool.” “Curling is not a sport.” “It’s in the Olympics, so I’d guess they’d disagree with you on that topic.” I listen to him laugh, the deep sound just as attractive as he is, especially when his eyes crinkle at the corners. The dimple in his left cheek, which I didn’t notice before, shows ever so slightly. Ignoring the flutter in my lower belly, I focus on eating and just enjoying his company. Being friends is safe, but there is no way I’ll entertain more than that with an apparently famous hockey player who has women throwing themselves at him.

For more information about Aurora Rose Reynolds, visit: https://aurorarosereynolds.com/

For more information about 1001 Dark Nights, visit: Website: https://www.1001darknights.com/ Facebook: https://bit.ly/3ONzTtZ Instagram: https://bit.ly/3rTZdo3 TikTok: https://bit.ly/3G98oYh

    **Every 1001 Dark Nights novella is a standalone story. For new readers, it’s an introduction to an author’s world. And for fans, it’s a bonus book in the author’s series. We hope you'll enjoy each one as much as we do.**

[pdbrebbe]

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[timmymyluv]

into it (trust issues)

into it

sugar daddy!timmy (timothee chalamet) x model!reader

So sorry this has taken so much longer than anticipated but she is here!! I didn’t think it would go in this direction but I loved how it turned out. 

Special thanks and love to @chal-latte and the rest of the taglist (to be added) whom have showed interest for this early on. Hope you guys like it! 

Please comment, reblog, share - lemme know what you guys think! 

Warnings: exhibitionism, dom/sub themes, oral (m/f receiving), fingering/masturbation, misunderstanding, sugaring (not sugarcoated but kinda??), protected sex (reader is on birth control)

Word Count: 7.3k

Again this is clearly sensitive, 18+ content so minors do not please interact with this. I beg of you, I demand of it actually. 

“I could give you the world. Ask for it, and it’s yours.”

You’ll never forget hearing those words come out of Timothee’s mouth, as both of you sat by the fancy downtown New York jazz bar under hazy, sultry lighting. In your body fight silk dress and bright red lipstick, you didn’t expect to meet anyone important, but yet you met- the Timothee Chalamet.

As a struggling model with few commercial gigs here and there, barely keeping you float and helping you pay rent in your shared model apartment with 7 other models.

You knew he was experienced with romance and sex, casual or serious relationships. A casanova of a sort who everyone would beg for even a glimpse of his attention.

Meanwhile, you were never one for casual hookups, after breaking up amicably with your ex in your smalltown before you moved to the Big Apple once you were scouted by an agency.

He was used to having girls (or even men) throw themselves at him, even for a one night stand or the chance for a relationship, but he found it so surprisingly refreshing that you didn’t seem one bit interested in that, or him at all.

Nonchalant and polite, you nodded along with a poker face as he introduced himself and you shook hands, siping on your martini paid for by another guy long gone from the club. As the night went by, you found lots of common ground in your conversation, giggling and cackling one moment before going deep into philosophical discourse the next.

He shared with you about his acting career, from the actors he’s had the pleasure to work with, sets to travel to, luxurious hotel experiences that his million-dollar salaries and offers on films promise him with. You almost itch with envy when he asks you about your modeling career, honestly sharing you’ve been reaching a dry period as the current trend in looks this season is not much favouring yours.

He shares a silent look of almost pity, but it’s like he can see through you. Seeing your potential, seeing you have that same drive, ambition that you are capable of so much more just like he is.

As the night ended, he asked for your number, and you exchanged as he put his on your phone. (rather second-hand, a former model friend gave it to you before a rich old billionaire bought her several brand new iPhones) Timothee offered you a ride home, offering nothing but a sweet peck on the cheek before he drove off after seeing you enter your front door.

…

It’s been nearly two weeks since you last saw him when he first texted you. Timothee tells you about being close friends with this casting director at Paris Fashion Week, and that the director would like to meet you.

You didn’t want to seem like a thirsty, social-climber gold digger - you didn’t entertain his advances because you saw him as a networking opportunity but he had this invisible pull to you that you couldn’t comprehend.

Sending your numerous thanks, you told him how grateful he was for that and what you could do to return the favour. Your meager salary and the runway pieces given to you last season in place for a proper salary would’ve probably seemed like trash to him, but he responds kindly. He wants to spend some time with you the next time he’s in New York City, and meet up for dinner.

…

The casting director he introduced you to opened up opportunities for you that you didn’t even know were there. Your agent was jumping for joy over the phone over you meeting that casting director.

“Are you serious? He’s the most well-connected casting director at the moment! He has booked you for so many shows and editorials next season - you are going to be the hottest new thing!” Your agent squeals, almost ringingly loud to your ear as you put your phone away from your ears and put it on speakerphone on the counter.

You don’t know what to gift him when you see him in a few weeks because, honest to god-you barely know the guy. Behind his prestigious acting roles and red carpet appearances, you’re just in the process of getting to know him.

He meets you at a rather upscale Italian restaurant not far off from the bar where you first met. You give him some random pastries you baked the night before, some cheesecake bites you took from an online recipe but tweaked slightly.

You expected to be embarrassed by your measly gift compared to the life-changing contact he just gave you.

“I’m just wondering- why did you recommend me to the modeling director? I’m not being ungrateful but - I’m just curious.” You ask as you take a bite of your spaghetti.

“He mentioned he was looking for some new faces and you were the first one I thought of, for no particular reason.” He casually shrugs, before getting into his own meal.

Nodding along, the both of you continue the night with your lively conversation, from how the shows you were in, the people you met to how wrapping up post-production was going for the movie he just finished filming.

The live band switches their slow, contemporary jazz to a more sensual tango tune, and just as you were going to sneak in to pay the bill while he wasn’t paying attention, he asked for a dance.

“Care for a dance?” He reaches his hand out to you suavely, confidently like he had rehearsed this a million times before. Of course he has.

You don’t find it in yourself to refuse. For the first time since you’ve met him, a part of you is not as guarded, almost more open and trusting.

There’s no need to worry whether he would be found by the paparazzi with some “new girl” and that you’d become one of his excursions for the week, only to be thrown away before he moves on to another. Celebrities are seen when they want to be seen, like he tells you with a raised brow. Besides, most of the people in the room are far into retirement, barely the usual teenage fangirls who would swoon at the sight of him.

As he twirls you around for the final song for the night, he provides you a proposition you would be stupid to say no to.

“I was wondering if- you would want to be my sugar baby? I’m not usually one to do these things, but- I just have this urge to look out for you, support you in every desire and whim you have.”

As you turn to face him, you look at him with a puzzled look, too shocked to respond.

“I-I didn’t mean to offend you or make you think I was pitying you-”

“Oh no no, I definitely didn’t get that impression. I was just wondering- why me?” You ask.

“I don’t know- I just want you to experience all that life has to offer. We haven’t known each other for long, but - if you are up to it, I would give you anything you want. I would give you the world, the moon even,  if you asked for it. ”

He’s up front about how he is currently not looking for anything committed. I mean why would he? He was a top Hollywood heartthrob who would have anyone throwing themselves to even have a piece of his time, satisfied with one night stands and hookups because he would be flying red eye to red eye with his jet set lifestyle.

You both draft a written document on the terms of your arrangement - an annual allowance, full access to his industry networks, the amount of time you spend with him whenever you don’t have work, but the last and final term - no falling in love/ romantic entanglements.

It doesn’t sound like a bad idea to both of you as you nod along at his suggestion and sign your name in red ink underneath. But you always know how this ends.

…

He takes you to a luxury department store that very next morning, driven by his driver on a limo, and closes the store for a few hours so you have the attention of every salesperson to your beck and call.

You are having your own Pretty Woman movie moment, your romantic film of your dreams coming true. You feel the heat rise up in your cheeks as you brush your fingers against the fine fabric on the velvet coat hangers, and try your best to ignore the confused yet almost jealous and annoyed facial expressions from the salespersons waiting for you to try things on.

Timothee let you explore for the first while, smiling fondly as you explored through the luxury department store with awe and wonder. You were drawn to a particular Yves Saint Laurent jacket and some Balenciaga jeans, as you hesitantly looked at him to try it on and he excitedly shoved you to the change room.

As you scrutinized yourself in front of the mirror with the charcoal leather jacket and Versace pumps, he comes in with a gleeful grin, with some items he wanted you to try on.

“Sir, there can only be one person in the change room-” The attendant tries to murmur but she’s ignored as Timothee sneaks into the spacious change room and sits down as he watches you examine the suggestions of clothes he wanted you to try.

“I think these colours would look really good on you, Y/N. Would you want to try them on?” He asks almost sultrily, looking back and forth and already picturing them on you.

Who are you to refuse - he clearly has an eye for fashion and he seemed to understand your style and taste already in the duration of your certain arrangement.

The red Givenchy body fitting dress looked stunning on your figure, hugging your curves perfectly with ruched satin intricately weaved on top of leather. When you emerge from behind the curtains, he looks up with dark, hooded eyes and a pleased smirk.

“Stunning as always, Y/N.”

“You say that for everything I’ve tried on.”

You pull him by his grey tie, snickering as you pull him into an all-consuming kiss that turns into an uninterrupted makeout session, not caring for the world about the salesladies who would hear every word, but could not say anything because he did pay for the entire hour to yourselves, no?

He playfully toys with the belt loops of your jeans as he opens his mouth and your tongue slides in to entangle with his. Your newly manicured hands are all over his chest, gently massaging as you moved down to his neck and hear a muffled moan against your ear.

Timothee’s palms brush from your shoulders to your back and stopping briefly over your breasts, fondling with them until he is satisfied with a symphony of your aroused shrieks you fail to hinder in time.

Kissing down his cream, silk dress shirt, fondling with the buttons until you get to his crepe dress pants and tug his boxers down as well in one strike. Rather than embarrassed on this public display of lust, he looks down at you with a confident, smug smirk, browsing his fingers through your silky hair with pride.

First pumping slowly from the tip, drunk off his frustrated and impatient groans, before quickening your pace before your tongue first makes contact and a feral grunt erupts from the bottom of his throat.

Bobbing, choking, slightly gagging and gulping his shaft down your throat, you expertly maneuver his desires from the flush on his cheeks, closed shut eyes and the moans he is emitting as he grips tightly against your scalp until his knuckles turned white.

“You’re too good at this-” He gasps at a particular throb of the back of your throat against his length, your fingers massaging his balls and lightly tickling the top of his dick until he splutters expletives and releases into the velvet of your mouth.

Swallowing eagerly like it was the last thing on earth you could consume, the only liquid that could nourish you, you stared back with fawned innocence as you release him from your warm cavern and slowly stand up, proudly wearing the bruises on your knees like a medal.

As you lean forward to zip up back his pants and pull up his boxes, he tugs you at the collar for a gentler, more delicate kiss, smiling as your teeth slightly clash at how clumsily he is kissing you back, still in a hazy daze from the mind blowing blow job you just gave him and the taste of his sweet release on you.

Leaving hand in hand with your smeared lipstick all over his face and your hands in his with a cheeky grin, he spoiled you to no limit and you left with a minimum of $100,000 spent that afternoon alone - from clothing to limited edition jewelry with only a few hundred pieces in existence.

…

Dinner that night was at a hotel restaurant in an upscale, but trendy part of town where you’d expect to see more urban, cosmopolitan yuppies like you.

The reflection of the new diamond Cartier necklace glimmers against the metal display across from you, as you proudly showed off your neck like a proud swan as he admired how you looked in the piece he chose for you and held your hand close to him as he kissed your knuckles gently.

“You always choose the best pieces for me, Tim. I cannot thank you enough.” You earnestly thank him but he hushes you lightheartedly, his index finger against your plush lips.

“There is no need to thank me, angel. To see you happy and dressed like the goddess you are, that is more than enough for me.” He tilts your chin towards him with a gentle pinch of his fingers, deeply looking into your eyes with a sincere expression.

You peck him briefly on the cheek across the table before your waiters arrive with the food you ordered for the night. Chatting casually about how his memorization of his new script has been going, the casting sessions you’ve been to recently, modeling executives you’ve met and the new book he’s read throughout the night.

To an unknowing outsider, the both of you clearly resemble a long-term committed loving, monogamous relationship, deeply in love. Even the restaurant’s manager mistakenly calls you his wife or the waiters assume you’re his girlfriend when Timothee introduces you to them as he’s a regular at this place. You hide the flush of your cheeks and nod along awkwardly.

…

He orders takeout dessert to be delivered to his apartment later that night, twirling the red wine in his wine glass, watching you bite into one of the matcha macarons from the fancy box he ordered just for you, because he knew it was your favourite.

The twinkle in his eyes was clear as the stars in the sky, even from his top floor Manhattan loft. Some of his curls loosely dangling over his eyes, his eyes dazy with sleep and slightly high off the few puffs he took from the joint you rolled him, and sleepy from the long day you spent on the go together.  

Littering gentle pecks and faint tongue licks all over your face, pressing his palm into your cheekbones as his mouth ghosts over your jaw, brushing over your forehead - just him, his scent, his touch, all over you and leaving his prints in his wake.

Deep in thought, it is soon before he recognizes the daze you’re in as you’re not as receptive to his touches as usual.

“Something on your mind?” He hoarsely whispers against the curve of our neck, blue and purple splotches starting to form.

“Would you consider having sex with me? Or is that not in our agreed terms-” He sits up in alarm with wide eyes and you guiltily grasp for him, fearing you’ve lost him for good.

“Consider? I never wanted to give the impression that our arrangement was for sexual intercourse only. You could have never touched me again and I would still want your company.” He speaks so openly, so candidly and you feel ashamed by how guarded you are.

“Timmy, I sucked you off in a department store dressing room, and you’ve eaten me out more than I can remember. Of course I am down for sex.” Feeling like you’ve misunderstood his intentions, tears starting to form and sting in your eyes.

Reaching forward to wipe away your tears, he hushes you and presses his forehead against yours with his eyes tightly shut.

“I never asked for you to become some high class prostitute or courtesan only for my sexual pleasures, doll. I truly want to indulge in your soul, your intelligence, your beauty, your kindness, your charm - everything.”

“I do not want you to feel pressured to have to reciprocate anything I do for you with your body, you are worth much more than that. Just your time with me is valuable enough that no money can return.”

Still refusing to look into his eyes and nodding along absently as you try to wipe away your tears, he brings you back to him, pressing his lips against yours with a firm resolve before backing away.

“Yet if that is what you want, I will not refuse it. I want to make love to you, not just fuck you and dispose of you the next day. Again, ask for anything and it is yours. I will not refuse you anything. Name a date, and you shall have it.”

Selecting a movie from his vast DVD collection, you both refuse to speak further on this conversation. Laying your head against his arm, tightly embracing his bicep against your nose and fight against the sleepiness washing over you. This is all pretend, you can pretend he is yours and you are his fully, wholly. When no strings attached you to each other than the ghost of what could have been.

..

You are away from him for a few weeks when a string of modeling gigs, booked campaigns, magazine covers and runway invitations pull you away from him.

After quick brunch with a number of high profile casting agents and fashion investors who are pleasantly impressed with you, you are ushered away by your manager and your casting agent to a studio just south of Pasadena for a Marc Jacobs perfume campaign.

Your hair plastered up with gel and powdered white and pink a la Marie Antoinette by Sofia Coppola, and a plain yet delicate beige full length gown that molded to your shape like a Renaissance marble sculpture. Makeup on your face was bare sans bright pink blush on the apples of your cheeks, foundation that made you look ghastly more than alive, and clear lipgloss on your lips.

Submerged in a murky, stained bathtub filled with water, you sat down and the dress became transparent against your figure, sparing nothing to the eyes. Your nipples peaked through the v-shaped neckline that was held together only by strings of gold chains and strips of white chiffon, as you transfigured into various poses that the photographer approvingly took with harsh flashes against your cornea.

Minutes turned into hours as the shoot continued into the late afternoon and nearly the evening, the lukewarm water turning cold against your skin, submerged and formed goosebumps on your forearm and thighs that you were sure would make you wake up with a cold the next morning. Heck, you could already feel the headache starting to crawl into your skull.

As you stepped out and left a soaked trail behind you, the assistants rushed to envelope you with a cotton bathrobe and a pile of other towels were thrown your way to dry you clean. Scanning and preapproving the photos with the photographer with an absent grin, you thank everyone on set for their work and rush to the bathroom for a shower before you rush home, order takeout and knock out for the night.

Browsing your phone aimlessly, you are pleasantly surprised when your bank app notifies you about a recent deposit of $35,000, from Timothee with a simple note saying “ Get whatever you want darling. Still looking for a new place? Found some listings you might like.”

You are astonished at how nonchalant he was about sending you money that most people would not even see in their entire lifetime. This probably was just pennies and dimes compared to his annual income nowadays, with all these films coming in and offers flying by the minute.

Sending one of the outtakes from the photoshoot just from your neck down to him, your breasts fully in display as the transparent dress you were wearing was sodden, the dips of your hips deliciously accentuated and your waist cinched, a mischievous simper on your face appeared before you ran off to the shower before you could even get more sick.

The emphatic pings of your phone’s message notifications against the constant gush of the shower water over your head made your belly rumble with victory and unappeased desire. You could only imagine what dirty, unhinged things he would be saying to you over text, what he promised you for the next time you would see each other and how you were in for it good when it came to punishments.

“Like it?!  I fucking love it, angel. I would devour you right now if I was there.”

“Oh, you little minx. What happened to the shy doll I first met at the bar?”

Your head was in the clouds guessing on what he sent you as you washed your hair and soaped your body under the running water. Feeling the heat of your body, you hovered down just above your sex. Tickling slowly around your inner thighs, pretending it was his longer fingers instead.

One hand pushing your lower lips apart as one fondled your breasts and pinched your pink, puffy nipples, you suppressed a high pitched moan in fear a lingering crew member would overhear you and ruin your reputation before your modeling career even took off.

Scissoring your index and middle finger into your warm chasm as your thumb traced lightly over your clit, you lost track of time as you indulged in the feeling that washed over your body. Like a tightly knotted string curled up tightly before being yanked violently, you see stars against a canopy of the night sky as you sweetly release, his name murmured repeatedly under your breath like a prayer.

Leaving the studio just before midnight strikes, in the brand new Louis Vuitton top he got you with some thrifted trousers and custom made sneakers he designed with you in mind, the poor interns left behind to clean up the intricate set design for the photoshoot of the campaign did not find anything odd about how upbeat and energized you looked after a grueling, all day shoot.

As you got into the private Mercedes Benz driven by one of his hired drivers that waited for you by the parking lot, your thumb hovered over sending ‘i touched myself at the thought of you, daddy.”  

…

The final box delivered at your newly moved two-bedroom apartment in Greenwich Village reaches your doorstep, and you thank the kind delivery man in your apartment complex.

Beside the box of plain Corelle dishes, a circular ivory hued gift box with a giant satin bow on top caught your eye. Tugging the card underneath, you see his name “Timothee” written elegantly with a fountain pen, as you hold it against your chest before shaking your head with an iridescent smile on how sweet and thoughtful he always is.

Three dozens of preserved pink roses were neatly arranged inside, with a lengthy original poem he wrote alongside excerpts from both your and his favourite literature writers and poets.

“To my muse, yn. Xx

XIV

If thou must love me, let it be for nought

Except for love's sake only. Do not say

'I love her for her smile—her look—her way

Of speaking gently,—for a trick of thought

That falls in well with mine, and certes brought

A sense of pleasant ease on such a day'—

For these things in themselves, Beloved, may

Be changed, or change for thee,—and love, so wrought,

May be unwrought so. Neither love me for

Thine own dear pity's wiping my cheeks dry,—

A creature might forget to weep, who bore

Thy comfort long, and lose thy love thereby!

But love me for love's sake, that evermore

Thou mayst love on, through love's eternity.

-Elizabeth Barrett Browning”

Pressing kisses of the laced envelope until lipstick marks stains were burned into them, you cherished this gift, his sweet, honeyed words and the paradise he had crafted and welcomed you into. If only he could give you his heart.

…

After countless of meetings with your agents and your managers, your team have expanded and hired more assistants under your wing as your schedules became more complicated and hectic.

Strolling across the small, hidden park, you are both enjoying the warm, glimmering sun coming out and kissing your skin and hitting two birds with one stone as you get your daily steps in. As your brown leather boots brush against the soil underneath the grass, you can’t help but think of him.

It’s been several months since the beginning of your arrangement, and with how much your career is thriving at the moment, you can’t believe you’ve barely had the time to process what you had with him.

You were to see him again in a few days, counting the seconds, the hours until you could feel his skin under yours again. The warmth of his body as he whispered empty promises down the column of your throat and you for a moment wish to wholeheartedly believe it.

Were you being too forward? Perhaps your appeal on why he picked you of all people was because he was used to figures throwing themselves at his whim, leaving broken hearts to never be seen again after a sinful night.

So when you carelessly offered yourself, your body to him that fateful day, you shattered whatever perception of speciality that you figuratively formed in his mind. You scolded yourself mentally as you continued your walk, ignoring the tears that streamed down your face before you picked up the hidden cigarette from your pocket for a few puffs.

…

You are waiting for him in his loft, having finished arranging accounts and investments with his financial advisor whom he recommended you work with to further grow your independent bank account and finances.

Timothee surprises you as he locks his arms around your neck, peppering kisses on the apples of your cheeks. You smile at the scent of the perfume you had chosen for him the last time you went shopping together - a piece of you he carried with him even when he was away.

“I missed you. Did you miss me?”

“How could I have not? It’s not the same when you’re not here.”

He reciprocates your smile as he looks at you fondly, massaging your head with his fingers through your locks, as if he was feeling if you were real, and physically present. You cradle his hands against your face, closing your eyes to wallow and drown into that sensation.

Sinking into the couch,e he leaves a burn with every kiss he trails down your body, gently slipping every piece of your clothing one by one, without a care for the world.

…

Several months continue of this daydream of an arrangement, and you fear things are too good to be true. You two are basically in a romantic relationship that have done everything and anything, except it is not monogamous, heavily dependent on financial transactions and could end any minute you lose his favour and to his whims.

The first night you give yourself to him, you want nothing to do with the intricate indications of what making love hinted to you. You did not want to intertwine your soul further with his ,even though you were already his but to no guarantee was he fully and entirely only yours.

You lied through your teeth that you only wanted dirty, violent and ruthless, hard sex - just brutal, raw fucking. In your all-red lace lingerie that barely hid anything to imagination other than his leather jacket you stole from his closet, your red lips hid the feelings you wanted to set free.

He repeatedly tried to talk you out of this, that he was not going to judge you for any of your preferences and you could change your mind anytime, that he could stop and go gentle or never touch you sexually again. You refused. You refused to let him see you like that when this is not what a committed relationship entailed. This was purely a financial transaction between a sugar baby and her financial provider.

Scratching down his back as he leaves fingerprint bruises down your thighs, torse, around your neck, you think this is the closest thing you can get to his touch on yours, numbing you from the growing sensation of unrequited, unbridled care, affection and love you developed for him.

Whips, sex toys, vibrators, bondage, shibari- whatever experimental sexual thing that’s harsh, yanking at your skin and has no hint of lovemaking to it, you’re game. As long it’ll keep him close to you, physically but not emotionally or mentally or spiritually. That’s too close. You get too close and you’ll lose him- never to see him again. It’s not even about the money anymore, you wouldn’t give a shit if he stopped wiring you an annual allowance and could just spend the rest of your life with him forever.

Every time you think he wouldn’t see you crying at night even after the aftercare he would generously give you, he too looked at you longingly, but he didn’t want to cross the line. If he keeps crossing the line and pushing the boundary further and further like he already has, the lines between the truth and the lies just keep blurring.

He wants you. Not just for your body, nor your intelligence or your beauty. He’s afraid. He’s never been so open with someone like this. Or at least since- well, a painful memory he would never want to mention again.

Timothee has always been so guarded, flocking to casual hookups, making out with random girls he meets one night, not knowing their names or seeing their faces in the night light before he runs away. Like he always has.

It horrifies him, scares him intensely. When he watches you sleep beside him on his bedside, it terrifies him how you have his heart in your hands, and can crush it anytime, but he pretends it doesn’t bother him. Wouldn’t that just be leading him on like how others have done to him?

It continues like this for weeks, barely a month - but the temperature has gotten too hot, the glass has cracked. Enough is enough.

“Why aren't you talking to me anymore? “ He asks you impatiently, tired of the messages of his you keep ignoring, or how you don’t look at his face whenever he’s around.

“What do you mean, I'm talking to you right now?! Nothing is wrong, Timothee. Here you are making such a big deal about everything!” Your voice wavers as you turn around to face him, hiding the tears hovering to pour out any moment.  

His head in his hands, pulling at the roots in his hair as he keeps trying to interrogate you but there’s no way to get through.

‘Why have you been so guarded with me recently? Heck, you’ve never been an open book from the start but you barely even share a glimpse of yourself with me anymore!” He shouts, he doesn't want to raise his voice but you’re not getting the point when the wall you put between the two of you only gets thicker and higher.

“I thought this was just an arrangement, Tim! I never thought you’d even think of romantically seeing me like that, or be in a committed relationship when we never talked about it!”  

Your breath heaved as you felt that you’ve unleashed something you’ve held back for so long. It was now or never. This could either open you up to a genuine communication with him, or close the doors in your face forever.

He stares at you in disbelief, in shame for himself, for not having treated you right. Timothee rushes towards you and puts his mouth against yours, his palms cradling your face as if he would lick your wounds to heal.

He releases you from the kiss like he swam up for air. “I’m so sorry you felt that way. Yes, we started our arrangement primarily as you as my sugar baby, but the feelings I developed for you were real.”

“You loved me?” The tears flow down your cheeks as you tuck your head around his neck, wanting to feel him against you as the emotions consume you completely.

“Loved and I still do. I always will. I was afraid of getting hurt, that making a commitment will make me lose you. I’ve never had the best luck when it came to relationships, so I felt that keeping myself at a certain distance would allow me to be in your life, but that I wouldn’t risk losing you.”  

Oh, how you felt so foolish! You wailed in despair as you smacked his chest, pushing him away as you cried but wanting him closer to you, too close, yet not close enough.

“You fucking idiot, I thought you only wanted to throw your money at me for my time and my body! I never wanted you to make love to me and rather just fuck me heartlessly because I was afraid it would give me an illusion that you loved me like I love you.” You spit your words out like you’ve been fed venom, a wound not fully healed and needed time to breathe.

Timothee lunges at you again until he is hovering over your body on the bed, his hands firmly locking your wrists above your head. He murmurs apologies as he peppers light pecks on your nose, down your neck and down your sternum.

“I’m so sorry - I’m ashamed I never had the chance to tell you the truth until now. The entire truth-”

“The girls I saw you with from a week before you flew home?” You had to ask, you couldn’t resist. You bit your tongue from when the photos were released from photographers during the events before he came home to you.

It stung like you were stabbed right in the stomach with a sharp knife and it twisted within you. The air clocked out your lungs and your vision blurred as you assured yourself that this was totally expected from your arrangement.

It was not monogamous, there was nothing romantic nor committed about your agreement. Heck, why wouldn’t he? He was at the peak of his career with girls throwing themselves at him every second, so why would he refuse if they could give him what you couldn’t?

So when the pictures of his tongue down some random girls throat backstage at the Coachella tents a few days ago even if it was before he came home to your bed, it only reminded you of how fickle the moments you had with him.

“I was drunk and I was high - I promised it didn’t mean a thing. My manager and my publicist team demanded I be pictured with these girls, for the image they want of me as some playboy, casanova heartbreaker.” He groans in frustration, apologetic he had to do anything against his will.

A part of you wanted to trust him fully, wholly but you couldn’t. You knew how this wretched industry worked, especially in the dark trails of Los Angeles. It was not fully the city of angels, or how it wanted to be.

Appearances were everything. It was only expected of him to play the game by its tricks if he wanted to survive and come out on top of the food chain. It would only amp up his appeal, his marketability if he appeared desired, still single and uncommitted but attractive and wanted to those wannabe influencers and models you didn’t know their names of.

“I- I don’t fully trust you, but I want you to give us a chance. If you’re willing to fight for it.” You demand, setting your ground as you push him above you so you can stare at him directly and clearly.

“I want this more than anything. You have my word. It won’t be perfect, but I am willing to put everything on the line for you. I don’t expect you to forgive me so easily, but please - at least one chance.” His eyes water as he looks at you sincerely, moving to your side and places his arms around your shoulders.

You reach forward slightly for a gentle peck on his lips, circling your arms around your waist. Sighing vows of pleasure and acceptance as he prays apologies down your skin. The straps of your flimsy crop top fall down your shoulders, as you feel his fingers and the warmness of his tongue brush against your delicate skin.

Wanton cries of pleasure come out from your mouth, your fingers tangled into the locks of his hair, pulling at his scalp as he pulls up your top from above your head. Leaving marks down the column of your throat and chest before he reaches for one of your nipples, circling and pinching with one hand while the other is sucked on with an eager hunger that cannot be satisfied.

He goes back and forth before he is trailing down your stomach with the same ferociousness and desire. You reach forward to raise his shirt from his torso and fumble for his belt clumsily.

Pulling your skirt and your panties in a single attempt, he nudges you back against the mattress, the silver necklaces on his neck hovering over you. You pull him in by his necklaces to kiss him ardently, breathlessly like if you stopped kissing him, you’d stop living and breathing entirely.

Timothee’s hands linger above your hips, before he tenderly grips your thighs, looking up for permission to part them and continue before you assert him with a panicked nod.

He dives in without restraint, fingers toying with your clit teasingly before you whine in thwarting before he thrusts into your hole mercilessly. He plunges in according to the symphony of your moans and cries, a particular groan coming from his throat when he finds a spot you like and puts his tongue right in, adding to your gratification.

Adding more fingers as his tongue wildly eats you up like candy, like the last meal he will have, your thighs wobble around sloppily and discombobulatingly as you build up towards reaching your peak.  

“Ah-ah, yes, right there , Timmy! So good, so- ah!” His enticing, alluring eyes look up at you almost menacingly, like you’re prey he can’t wait to tear apart. He adds another finger as his tongue swipes in deeper and messily, slurping your juices as your orgasm comes crashing in.

Seeing stars as a string is pulled from within you, the light and darkness of your perception incomprehensible as one as you lose sensation for a moment. As you return back to your senses, you only see unruly curls and hazel eyes looking at you like he’s known you forever.

As you regain your hazy thoughts to pump his shaft as he cries in revelry, eyes rolling backwards as you press him closer to you. He moves up to flutter over you, gaping on top of you with laborious breaths as he wordlessly asks for your consent one more time.

Hoarsily you hiss a hushed ‘yes’ with whatever voice you got in you left from your cries in euphoria, and he thrusts into you haltingly, unhurriedly- so unlike the times you usually make him fuck you until you can’t walk.

Tangling your hands with his, he worships you as your hips brush and he penetrates into you without restraint, but so softly, so delicately like you would break like glass any minute. Bit by bit, before he is fully inside, groans as he sucks into the skin below your jaw and messily kisses you on the lips, fresh with your essence giving him a glow.

You cry like you have seen heaven above, whining, and screeching over the love of his that he has desperately wanted you to feel, but you’ve denied for so long. He adores you like you’re an altar, a saint on a pedestal that he wants to sacrifice himself for.

“I love you, fuck - i love you, so much. Mon amour-”

As you feel him release his warm seed inside you, he rubs repeatedly against your clit and sensitive hole before you come one more time, like two souls intertwined and intertwined into one. Like you were him, and he was you.

…

The rest of the night is a fuzzy blur, tainted by too many glasses of wine where you end up tangled in his bed sheets. The tender touches across your torso and around your neck are more gentle than you’ve ever imagined.

You give yourself to him three times that night, just as ravenous and hungry as the first time. You had previously chatted about your boundaries, your off-limits, but what you were willing to indulge and try with him in his bedroom.

As the sun rose, you opened your eyes to him propped on his elbow, looking down at you longingly with nothing but affection and fondness in his eyes.

“Good morning, sunshine.”

“We still have lots to talk about, doofus.” You tease him, pointing your tongue at him as you sit up with your comforter around your waist, but he pushes you back down.

“That and we will. Let’s give this one more try, and start how it should’ve been. “ He truthfully promises with no mischief or lies on his face.

You hesitate for a moment, not knowing what to say as your mouth opens trying to figure out what to say next.

“Give it some time. I know this is a lot to think about, but I really want us to work. I want this to last.”

“You promise?” You sound so hopeful, like an innocent child so optimistic before the real demons of the world came haunting her down.

“Yes, I promise. If you think I won’t spoil you with everything I got either, you’re dead wrong.”

Oh, Tim. The very Timothee you grew to love and adore.  You wouldn’t have it any other way. 

“You can’t say I wanted you just for your money or that I’m a gold-digger then. You can’t get rid of me that easily!” You jest, trailing your fingers lightly over his chest, until he reaches forward just underneath his bed. 

“Now why don’t you try on this new lingerie set I got for you? I’m sure you’d look delicious with it on?!” He offers with a teasing smirk, eyes darkened with lust and want already as he holds the package in his hands.

You shake your head with a light chuckle. Oh you were in for it now.