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#I'm working already on a few other things!
zyafics · 2 days
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play fake | part eight
series play fake — ( masterlist )
pairing rafe cameron x female reader
summary when rafe cameron needs to secure a gf in order for his father to see him as a stable man, he enlists the help of a bartender who wants nothing to do with him.
content 18+, eventual smut, angst, fake-dating, jealousy, people-pleasing and independent! female reader, ward cameron pinning rafe and sarah against each other, rafe being an asshole
𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃 ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚
Laid out on the edge of a heavenly bed, a rustling stirs you awake.
You blink through the thinly-streamed sunlight casting into the room and adjust your vision, trying to decipher where you are.
Rafe stands in front of his closet, shirtless, searching through to find something to wear. When you lift your head off the pillow, groggy sounds escaping your lips, he turns his head. 
"Shit, did I wake you?" He asks, brows furrowed together.
"Are you going somewhere?" You respond, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand. "Should I go home?"
Last night, after you accepted Rafe's invitation to stay over at Tannyhill, you didn't do anything other than shower, take a Plan B, and go to sleep. It was a long day and when Rafe shuffled into his sheets, you pulled yourself to the ledge of the mattress. It wasn't done out of separation, but because of an unusual habit you developed as the sole provider for your sisters. You always stay close enough to the edge that, if any problems arise in the middle of the night, you have the fastest exit.
Rafe shakes his head, rounding the bed to approach your side. He can't believe how pretty you are, even just waking up, fresh-faced with no makeup. His chest buzzes with an indescribable feeling.
"It's fine," he declares. "I'm about to head out to brunch with my dad. We have to talk through some things that happened last night."
You don't miss the grimace in his tone.
Frowning, you offer, "do you want me to come?"
Honestly, Rafe would love that. Having you by his side while he’s conversing with his father would ground him. Because he knows, if Ward Cameron sees him as incompetent and expandable, at least with you, he isn’t. 
"You have nothing to wear."
You glance down at your sleepwear, a borrowed shirt from Rafe's closet that cuts mid-thigh, and realize he's right. It wasn't like you packed an overnight bag and your only options are to reuse the gown from last night or your bartender work attire.
There is Sarah's closet but after Rafe's whole conflict with his sister returning, you'd rather not put it on the table.
"Right." You drawl, pressing your lips together while you consider alternatives. "You could drop me off at my house. I can change."
He shakes his head, concealing a rising smile at your determination to attend. "Not enough time."
"What time is it?"
"A quarter after eleven. I have to meet him there by noon."
He's right. The drive to The Cut is going to take most of that time.
"I'll be fine." Rafe declares. "I've handled him for the past twenty-three years. I can handle a few hours."
You nod, saying nothing. What could you say? You're taking Rafe's words at face value and if he believes he can go into this meeting without having another destructive conversation, then you can only believe him.
"I should go then." You throw the comforter off your body, the coldness of the morning breeze sends a shiver down your spine. Your legs drape off the ledge. "Since you won't be here."
"No." Rafe asserts suddenly, causing you to stop in your tracks. "I'll be back. Just hang out here."
He doesn't want you to leave. Whatever conversation he'll have with his father, it would either settle on a concession or a bad ending. Rafe already mentally prepared the layout of his day and he knows he'll need you after. To talk. To comfort. To be here with him.
"Alone?" You confirm, the idea is scandalous to your ears. "In your mansion? Aren't you afraid I'm going to steal something of yours?"
You're playing into Pogue stereotypes, testing if Rafe trusts you enough.
"You wouldn't." He shakes his head with confidence and you still don't have your answer.
“You don’t know that.” You challenge with a tease. “I saw some things downstairs I would like to take home. If I just swipe them when you leave…” Your voice trails off when Rafe settles in front of you, both arms pressed on either side of your hips and he levels down his face to be inches away from yours. 
"I could just buy them for you."
Your heart sputters. You stare back at him, admiring his freshly-clean look with a faint scent of aftershave. He looks handsome. His blue eyes set on you, captivating and waiting. For a brief moment, you could see yourself letting him in. 
You expel an awkward laugh. ‘Yeah, right,” you hit his shoulders, trying to create some distance between the two of you, but it doesn’t work. The touch only further the buzz within you, stirring something from the pit of your stomach. “Like I would let you.” 
"But you'd rather steal?"
You shrug, needing to look away, pretending to admire a thread you found on his sheets. "What did I tell you that day in Topper's house?"
He hazily recounts the details. The night when you came and propositioned him. Where he got into a fight with a stranger for harassing you. Where you patched him up.
"I only remember you on my lap."
You scoff, turning back to him. "Of course you would." 
You make a move to stand, but Rafe lays a hand on your hips, keeping you in place.
"What?" You ask breathlessly, despite the limited movement.
“You promised you were going to ride me.” He recalls lowly, pushing the fabric of his tee up your thighs and creating goosebumps in its wake. “You don’t have makeup on.”
Shaky breaths leave you, trying to remain in control. But you know you’re losing it with every light caress Rafe is giving you, igniting the heat between your legs. “Are you always this horny in the morning?”  
"Just for you, sweetheart."
Your mind is warping and you fumble for excuses.
"I have morning breath."
"We don't have to kiss."
"You have a meeting in less than an hour."
"We'll be quick."
With a huff, you retort. "Do you always have an answer for everything I say?"
He chuckles. "I know you now."
You're afraid he truly does.
Your lips part when his hand cups the underside of your jaw, tilting your gaze to meet his. His eyes scans over your features, reading how willing you are, and mumbles. "That's my girl."
Your skin buzzes with his praise, and Rafe goes to remove your shirt—his shirt that you’re wearing, the sight of which drives him insane—and exposing your bare tits and panties underneath. No matter how many times he sees you naked, it amazes him every time. That it’s him that gets to see you this way. That it’s him who gets to touch you. 
"Fuck." He whispers, sinking to his knees as his hands spread your legs apart. He wants nothing more than to sink in you, but he wants to please you first. Lowering, Rafe kisses the base of your knee to your inner thighs. "You're so fucking gorgeous."
It's things like this that make your head spin. Not the mind-blowing sex—no, that's a plus—but his words. The little acts. You don't know whether to trust them because mostly, he only utters them when you're intimate. You know how different it can be afterwards.
His fingers go under the band of your underwear and take them off with your assistance. 
"Such a pretty pussy." His thumb traces up and down your slit, collecting your arousal and causing you to buckle from his slow, teasing touch.
"Rafe." You warn. "The time."
He glances over his shoulders to the digital clock sitting on his dresser and turns back to you with a smirk. "How about you watch it and tell me how I'm doing?"
"You have a meeting soon."
"Baby, you really don't want to rush me." He declares, moving closer and pushing your legs onto his shoulders. His tongue lightly grazes your cunt, causing you to bite down on your bottom lip. "I wanna enjoy this."
Rafe flattens his tongue, performing languid strokes as your fingers threads through his hair. You arch into his face when he sucks on your clit, his fingers entering you in simultaneous thrusts. Your eyes flutter close from the sensation.
"You taste so good, baby, I could have you for breakfast every morning." He mumbles against your opening, the vibration of his rasps elevates the pleasure and aids you towards your climax.
When you come on his face, Rafe guides you through your release and when he pulls back, he checks the clock. "Not bad, huh?"
You shake your head softly, a dazed smile on your lips. "I bet I can do better."
"Yeah?"
You push yourself forward to remove his sweatpants, the outline of his bulge prominent, and while you tease him with light traces on his lower abdomen, the sound of a ringtone interrupts you.
Rafe moves over to the dresser where his phone sits and answers the call from his father. "Yeah?" He greets, listening to what Ward has to say. "You said twelve."
Another exchange is made before Rafe ends, and when he does, he rolls his eyes, agitation evident on his features. "I have to go. My dad is moving up the time."
You smother the aching disappointment and nod. "Okay," you say, picking up your panties from the floor and sliding them over your hips. You glance over to the door, contemplating your own exit. He notices. 
"I'll be back, alright?" Rafe reaffirms, coming over to plant a gentle kiss on your temple and your body leans into his touch. "Just stay."
While you wait for Rafe to explain, you take a tour around the estate. Midway through your exploration of family portraits and expensive winery around the kitchen, you receive a phone call from the babysitter. 
"Hello?" You answer, while the babysitter is scrambling to produce coherent words. "Wait, wait, slow down. What's going on?"
She doesn't explain much, informing you to get home immediately and hangs up. Your heart sputters by the sudden disconnect and you race to Rafe's bedroom to collect your things before ordering a rideshare. When you hop in, your leg restlessly taps on the floor of the car while you check the battery on your phone.
You're imagining the worst possible scenarios. Something happened to your sisters. They got injured. One of them is in the hospital. The other is missing. Or, somehow, the house caught on fire and now, you're homeless.
When you reached your destination, the car didn't halt to a full stop before you hopped out, running down the driveway to the familiar, unscathed house. That calms your mind for a moment.
Before you realize it's something much worse.
"Aaron." You murmur, shoulders tense as your eyes widen, recognizing the tall dark-haired man standing in front of your door, talking to the babysitter who's blocking the entryway. He turns his head at your arrival, eyes cascading down your body before meeting your gaze.
"Y'know, you've been a hard woman to find." He chuckles to himself, the sound making all the hair on your body stand up. Aaron pushes himself off the beam of your porch. "Where you been?"
Your heart is hammering in your chest. You glance over to the babysitter to signal her and she reenters the house and barricades the door. Inhaling a sharp breath, you try to calm yourself.
"What are you doing here?"
He tsk. "Wrong answer. I asked you first."
"I know I'm late—"
"I don't wanna hear excuses." He holds out his hand, flexing the various dark ink crawling up his forearms. "I just want an answer."
His voice is calm. Too calm. It's scaring you.
"I've been busy. Business been slow—"
"Is that not an excuse I'm hearing?" He says, stepping closer to you. You can see the outline of his gun tucked under the band of his pants and your breath shortens. "Where have you been?"
With your heartbeat in your throat, you don't know what answer you can give to satisfy him. So, you remain silent.
When Aaron realizes that, he tilts his gaze out into the driveway with a huff. "I heard you been running around with a Kook," he states, matter-of-fact, and you can smell the faint stench of nicotine wafting from his clothes. "Was that him?"
He's referring to your rideshare driver. You shake your head frantically. "No. But, I swear to you, I'll get you your money if I have more time."
He scoffs in disbelief, turning back and ignoring your pleas. His dark eyes find the pendant wrapped around your neck and he lets out a cold chuckle. "And he's been giving you some real nice gifts, too."
Fuck, this isn't a good look for you. Your panic is skyrocketing and you resist the strongest urge to hide the expensive jewelry behind your palm.
"Aaron." You begin again, your voice shifting to desperation. "I just need a little bit more time. This doesn't mean—"
He holds out another hand. "Look, I've been a nice guy. Wouldn't you say so?" He prompts, tilting his head, and when you don't answer, he adds. "I mean, what kind of person would lend you thirty grand? I consider that pretty generous, right?"
You swallow hard, your throat dry. "Right."
"And I've done nothin' yet to make you not trust me otherwise, right?"
You hesitate with a shaky breath, your knees buckling. "Right."
"So, all I'm asking is to return the gesture and give me back my money. I help you, you help me, that's how this relationship works, right?"
"Aaron, I—"
"If you interrupt me one more time, I'll cut out that fucking tongue."
You let out a small whimper, silencing yourself. Both hands tucked behind your back. He smiles at your submission, dark eyes gleaming in pride. "Good."
Aaron draws closer, stopping just in front of you. His grimy fingers trails down the length of your neck, following the chain of your necklace, before grabbing the pendant between his fingers and ripping it off. The clasp breaks and a gasp leaves your lips.
With his other hand, he seizes the back of your neck.
"Three days." He threatens, the grip piercing into your skin. "I'm givin' you three more days and if you can't pay me back by then, I won't be such a nice guy anymore."
He waves the dangling necklace in front of your face. "I'll keep this as collateral."
You're shaking under his touch and he notices, smiling crudely, before he does another sweep of your exposed body. "And y'know, there's other ways of paying me back."
Aaron finally releases you, and you stumble away from him with a few steps. The dark-haired man descends off your porch and disappears on his bike, leaving you trembling at the foot of your door.
You don't move for the next few minutes. Your mind is occupied with everything going on, that when you slip into your house, you run on autopilot.
You pay the babysitter, patting her back as a silent gratitude for her assistance and protection, and gather your sisters onto the couch, holding them close. Hugging them tight. Trying to use their heartbeats to calm yours.
The rest of the night is spent with them. They wanted to watch a movie and you pulled out an old disk of their favorite films. With that on, they quickly fall asleep on your shoulders and you carry them to their bedroom.
That's when the real work begins.
Spending the rest of your time on the kitchen island, devising a plan, you hear a knock at your door.
Afraid that the loan shark had returned to make a second visit, you hoped it would go away, only for the sound to grow more intense and adamant. Your fear spikes and you were afraid he was going to do something much worse if you didn't answer. When you approached the front door, you held your breath.
Only to find a blond.
"Where were you?" Rafe demands, his expression unreadable but his words are cold. It rubs you the wrong way, reminding you too closely of Aaron.
You can't handle it. You attempt to shut the door, only for Rafe to stick his foot between the crack and push back.
"What the fuck? What are you doing?" Rafe enters into your house, his eyes searching the place for anything out of the ordinary, anything you would hide from him, before his gaze lands on you.
You cross your arms protectively over your chest, thinking this is another one of his outbursts. "Rafe, I don't have time right now. Whatever you're pissed off about, you have to wait—"
"I came home and you were gone."
That quiets you.
"Your shit was gone. Even your mess from the bathroom was wiped clean." He recounts, struggling to conceal the vulnerability seeping through his words with each reveal. "You didn't even leave a note."
Your mind is muddled. You didn't realize it would affect him this much and something about the act endears you. You were so frantic, trying to figure out how to get home before your phone dies, that you forgot your own commitment to Rafe.
"Say something." He urges.
"What happened?" You ask softly, discovering your answer when his expression twists. Like he doesn't want to think about it. You don't want to think about your problems either. "I assumed you would go to a party."
You say that because, if Rafe didn't have you conveniently-located at his disposal, he would return to his own vices. It stings him that you still thought of him as his former image, but he couldn't completely fault you because he did—he went to one of the island's parties and came out still feeling empty.
Rafe's jaw locks as he stares at you, breathing heavily. Taking you in. How just the sight of you seems to soothe him. He doesn't know how to explain it, when the tides changed, but it did. The fact that he's here, in this rundown house in the middle of The Cut after a blowout with his father, all because he misses you says it all.
"I don't want to talk." He declares firmly, the resoluteness of his tone shocks you. "Not now. But I will, after, if that's what you want."
You draw your brows together. "What are you getting at, Rafe?"
Rafe swears under his breath. These words, these feelings are difficult to him. It's uncomfortable and unwanted and all it makes him want to do is resort back to his anger, something comfortable he can express himself in. But he can't. Not with you.
"I don't want that shit anymore. I just wanna fuck you."
Your lips part. "What?"
Unintentionally, the natural response came with a tone of hurt but you disguise it well. You recognize your own feelings in that precise moment. When you got into this relationship with Rafe, you knew nothing he does is out of the sincerity of his heart. It's a committed act. A performance of a perfect boyfriend.
Yet, it breaks your heart. How you manage to fall for him, despite knowing everything he does is fake. Even now, standing before you, he's admitting his clear intentions and you can't help but envision another meaning.
It can destroy you, this hope, only if you let it. You'd rather let the clear lines be drawn. If Rafe is telling you he wants to use you for sex, so be it. You won't ask for anything else.
When your silence becomes deafening, Rafe abandons his last shred of pride.
"Please."
You inhale sharply, evening your words. You can detach too. "Ask me."
His large hand tucks under your chin, lifting your gaze to meet his. "Can I use you?"
"Yes."
The confirmation was all he needed before his lips slams into yours. His hands lowers to capture your ass and as a signal, you jump, wrapping your legs around his waist. Rafe moves through the hallway and towards your bedroom, kick-opening the door, causing the doorknob to smash into your wall with a loud thump.
You pull back from the kiss. "Don't break my house."
"I'll pay for that."
Rafe drops you onto the bed and pulls off his shirt you took from Tannyhill. His movements are skilled and hurried, needing to see you, to taste you. He kisses down your neck, to the curve of your shoulders, before finding himself between the valley of your breasts. His mouth covers a nipple.
You tip your head back with a moan, reveling in the way his tongue twirls around the metal barbell, igniting your nerves. Rafe rocks against your spread legs and you feel his bulge teasing your core. "Rafe, please."
"What did I tell you about rushing me?" He murmurs against your skin. "I'm trying to enjoy this."
The challenge hangs in the air and when Rafe gives both of your tits equal attention, he pulls back to admire the sight of your hard nipples wet and glistening. Tilting his gaze up to you, he palms a breast in his hand.
"I'm going to be rough." He announces. "Tell me if it hurts."
Your heart swells from the gesture but you wish he would just do it without caution. It'll be easier to separate your feelings.
Leaning forward to capture a kiss, you breathe into his mouth. "You said use me, right? Then use me."
His eyes darken. "Don't say something you'll regret."
"Then make me regret it."
You're exactly what he needs.
Rafe wastes no more time and strips out of his clothes, his cock springing free from his boxer, all red and swollen. You can't help but feel a pang of pity, remembering how he had to leave this morning without release.
Reaching out to cup him, he snatches your wrists in one hand. "What do you think you're doing?"
You pout. "I'm helping you."
"Did I tell you to?" His words are commanding, shifting to a state that leaves no room for arguments. You swallow hard, feeling a thrill passing through you at his control. "Are you going to be a good girl tonight and do as you're told?" 
You nod.
"I need words, sweetheart."
"Yes." You say desperately and Rafe releases you.
Pushing you back against the mattress, he pulls you to the ledge and removes your shorts and panties. When you're open and dripping for him, he thrusts into you without warning.
"Shit," you let out a cry. Rafe pushes the back of your thighs into a bend, your kneecaps beside your ears, and this new position gives him access to enter deeper.
"Fuck, I needed this." He moans, burying in ecstasy at the way you wrap perfectly around him. "Why would I ever want to go to another fucking party when I can have this every night?"
You can't answer him, too lost in the initial pain that quickly fades into your credence of pleasure. Moans escape you, elevating in volume with each pump. You had to slap both your hands over your mouth to muffle your sounds from waking your sisters.
Rafe recognizes that immediately. That's the only reason he isn't ripping them off right now—to let him hear how he makes you feel, to listen to what he's owed—because he knows where your priorities lie.
"Please don't stop," you whimper through your fingers, which are slowly loosening as you feel the familiar tension tightening in your gut.
"Sweetheart, God can't even pull me away from this pussy right now." Rafe grunts. Your walls flutter around him. "You're about to come, aren't you?"
You nod desperately and Rafe fastens his rhythm, the sound of his balls slapping against your ass as you race towards your orgasm with a loud, uninhibited moan that echoes through the room. He had to slap a hand over your mouth to muffle the noise.
Panting, you try to catch your breath but Rafe doesn't allow you to rest. Still hungry, still needing, he pulls out and flips you on your stomach, hauling your ass in the air.
Your legs burn from the way he folded you but you still get on your knees. Breathing heavily with your profile pressed against your sheets, you feel his hands flattening against the smooth curve of your cheeks, squeezing.
Rafe takes his time to admire you from behind. So willing, so wanting, he can see you dripping and making a mess on your covers. He chuckles. "Do you need me, baby?"
"I want you," you breathe, "inside, please."
"Inside where?" Rafe grips the base, tapping his tip on your wet folds. "Here?" He mocks, before shifting to the opening of your asshole. "Or here?"
Your breath hitches; the unfamiliar contact sends a shiver down your spine.
"Come on, sweetheart. I need an answer." Rafe taunts, rubbing his slick cock over your hole, anticipation pricking his skin as he sees you contract. "Would this be your first?"
You nod, too disoriented to form words.
He grins. "Are you going to let me fuck your asshole?"
The feeling of your slickness rubbing against your back entrance feels foreign but not unwelcome, sending hot desire to your core. While you struggle to produce an affirmative, Rafe leans forward to grab your throat, pulling you upright.
"Are you going to answer me, Pogue, or am I going to have to do it for you?"
You hate the term Pogue, especially when he uses it, but at this moment, with his hot breath fanning the crook of your neck, you're glad he is. It reminds you—to separate the sex and your heart.
"Whatever you want." You confess.
Rafe drops you back onto the mattress, spitting on your asshole and wets the area with the pad of his thumb. He didn't immediately enter, as you would have predicted, and instead pushed a thick digit through your hole.
You try to relax, shivering through unfamiliar contact.
"Oh, shit, you're so tight for me." He breathes out, sliding in two. "I know you're going to make me come in a second."
He thrusts in-and-out at a slow pace, prepping you, but the lack of friction is causing you to grow impatient and needy. All you want is him. 
"Do it. I'm ready."
Rafe laughs. Not listening. "But this isn't about you, is it?"
He tests you out for a couple more minutes, getting you comfortable and relaxed, and it lures you into a false sense of security. When you find yourself gathering your breath, it shifts into a sudden emptiness of his removal, and before you know it—he pushes the head of his cock in, surprising you with a scream. 
The pressure stings from the initial intrusion, and you wince, gripping onto the sheets and burying your face, but as Rafe gradually fills you, the pain fades into an unlikely pleasure, floating and amplified all over your body.
"Fuck, you feel so good," he groans. "Am I hurting you?"
You hesitate before nodding. "Yes..."
He stills. "Do you want me to stop?"
You shake your head. "No."
Something ignites deep and carnal within Rafe. The way your body tightens, your legs shaking, and the submission in your voice as he has his way with you. The fact that you want to continue, despite the hurt, because he wants it, drives him insane.
"You're being such a good girl tonight."
The compliment drives your enthusiasm and you wiggle your ass against his cock, feeling him twitch inside of you. It flips his control. Rafe quickly grabs your hips, holding you in place.
He grits out. "Don't do that."
"Why not?" You whine, wanting to feel him deeper, more full. "I'm only trying to help."
A laugh can't help but escape him. At how cockdrunk you are—it carves something in his chest. "God, you really are my personal slut. Doing anything to make me feel good, won't you?"
You don't answer, the call-out warming your cheeks at your own recognition. You said it once during sex, a tease on him, but now you can't help but see how true it is. Now, it feels like an attack on the independent facade you crafted as part of your character.
Rafe wants to hear you. He grips your hips harder, leaving bruises. "Say it."
You shake your head. You don't want him to know how much you're willing to give him. It's too vulnerable.
The lack of silence isn't enough for him.
Rafe rails into you, bottoming out, and you let out a cry at the intensity of his size, at the pressure buried in you, and the pain-pleasure that pulsates through your body. You understand it's your own punishment, but your teeth sinks into your bottom lip, refusing to budge.
He goes again. And again. To the point that he's rage-fucking you, abandoning all restraints and channeling his aggression from his brunch and your disobedience. He wants to know you'll be willing to sacrifice your pride as much as he sacrifices his and he's pissed that you aren't.
A tit-for-tat. 
One of your hands slips between your legs, rubbing your clit in simulation. The euphoria explodes all over, especially with how Rafe fills you from behind, and you moan wildly, causing him to discover the act and pin your wrists behind your back.
"No."
"Rafe." You beg, the ache between your legs is demanding and left without resolution. "Touch me."
He shakes his head with a tsk. "Bad girls don't deserve that."
You have a retort on your lips but it's forgotten the moment he thrusts into you, so deep, it hits a spot you didn't know existed and causes you to roll your eyes to the back of your head.
"Fuck, you're loud." He grumbles, grabbing your panties from the side and bundling them into a tight ball, shoving it into your mouth. You choke on surprise.
"Rafe–"
"Shut. Up." He warns viciously, knowing the increment level of noises you're producing is going to wake your siblings. Another reason why you won't let him in. "And just take it like a good slut."
Something about his command exhilarates you. Bounded and gagged, Rafe is fucking your ass, and all you can think about is you're letting him. You want this. Even with his harsh words.
You had to give him something.
"Like yours." You admit, the muffling of your panties works wonders at stifling your words.
Despite that, he heard it. Rafe pauses for a moment. You aren't giving him everything, but he hears it in the confession.
His command is low. "Say that again."
"I'm yours." You whimper, desperate and submissive. "Please make me come."
His chest warms and his smile is smug. Rafe slides his hand from your hips to your needy cunt, rubbing your swollen nub with tight circles, causing you to buckle and heightening your rising peak.
"Oh, fuck," you gasp with a sharp breath, "oh, god, oh, god."
When you come, your orgasm hits in waves—intense and demanding—ripping out of you despite the gag, and searing in such an elevated state that you slump back onto the bed. Rafe has to abandon everything to grab your middle, holding you up.
He continues to penetrate you from behind until he fills you up, his hot cum leaking out of you. When he pulls out, he takes his fingers and pushes it back in, causing you to contract with a low, lazy moan.
You're out of it. You thought it would be the end but Rafe's appetite is insatiable. He settles back against the headboard of your bed, breathing heavily with a sheen of sweat covering his taut chest, and beckons you.
"Rafe," you groan weakly. "What?"
"Come here."
Despite the throbbing in your muscles, you crawl to him. Settling next to his pelvis, you glance down at his softening cock. "Get me hard again."
Your eyes widen at the instruction. "Are you not tired?"
"Never of you."
You roll your eyes before your fingers gingerly wrap around his shaft, slowly rubbing him out, feeling it harden underneath your touch in a matter of seconds. You gleam in a bit of pride at your ability. You turn back to him, drawn out and exhausted. "Now, what?"
"Ride me."
"What?"
"Come on, sweetheart." He teases, grabbing your waist and moving you to mount over him. Your entrance hovers over his tip, sensitive—so, so sensitive—that you let out a small whine. "You have a promise to keep."
You try. Lowering yourself to let the head in, you immediately pull back, hissing from your overestimation with a fervent shake of your head.
"Rafe." You pant, eyes searching his face. "I can't. I–I think I'm done."
"I'm not." And with that, he thrusts upwards and into you. You collapse onto his cock, sinking down with a cry as tears prick your line of vision from the overwhelming ache of pleasure.
You still move against him, trying to produce some friction, despite your words. Rafe sees how you're working, trying to please him, that he pulls you down to capture your mouth in a tender kiss, drawing out your pain with some pleasantry.
His hand cups the side of your face and you melt into his touch, the act removes all your inhibitions. When he retreats, he whispers against your lips. "Last one, okay, baby? I know you can hold out for me a little longer."
Determination courses through you.
You, with tear-stained cheeks, nods. You straighten your posture, closing your eyes and will yourself through the pain, bouncing on his cock and ignoring the burning sensation in the back of your thighs.
Rafe watches your tits bounce and uses the opportunity to capture the bar lined between your nipples, twisting and pulling them to produce pleasure for you. The additive of his touch pushes your body into overdrive and you feel yourself growing closer once again.
"Please, please, please." You beg, to anyone, anything with a higher power, to guide you through this climax. It's the hardest to peak, and you try to quicken your pace, but your legs give out and you fall flat. Rafe, knowing the familiar twitch of your walls around him, begins to assist and thrusts into you.
"I'm close, baby," he grunts, pumping forward with enough force that pushes both of you through your orgasm and riding out your highs together. You clench so tightly around him, in the aftermath, that he can barely move. 
When you feel the familiar warm pool spilling inside of you, you let him empty it all out, and when you dismount, you fall into the space beside Rafe, leaking and complete fucked out.
Rafe knows your next move is to pull to the ledge, to separate some distance between the two of you, but he doesn't give you the chance before he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you into his chest. His breathing is heavy, his heart rate is fast, and he's worn out from the session.
You don't resist, letting yourself calm down with him. It isn't until he presses a soft kiss to the back of your shoulders and wipes away some of your tears that your stomach flips. "You okay?" He murmurs against your heated skin. 
You want to cry. Not from the sensation but because of how gentle he's treating you after; how it's messing with your feelings and making you think of things you shouldn't.
"I'm fine." You lie, putting your hand over his arms and peeling them off of your body before pulling to the ledge. It feels like a safety tactic nowadays.
Rafe takes it as some kind of rejection and when you move into a sitting position, back pressed against the headboard, you turn to him with a raised brow.
"Do you want to talk about it now?" You ask, doing something, anything to stop this feeling from building inside of your chest and giving you hope. You remind yourself of the transactions; the falsehood of it all.
He doesn't, especially with the distance, but he does it anyway, out of respect for your terms.
"My dad is giving away the case to Sarah."
Your lips part. "What?"
"The one with the marsh and hotel? Yeah."
You pause, taking a few seconds to gather your words. "And you're upset because it's unfair?"
He doesn't answer you immediately. He's not upset about the case itself, there's hundreds of other opportunities for him to handle business like that. Especially now knowing he could. It was the fact that it was our case, because you helped him figure it out. You were his partner.
He shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant. "I worked hard on it. She doesn't deserve all the credit."
You hum in understanding. "I'm sorry."
Rafe huffs. "I don't need your pity."
"It's not pity, it's compassion." You correct. "You're pissed and you're hurt by something your dad did to you. It's okay to feel that. I'm sorry you have to feel that."
Rafe says nothing, watching you.
His heart aches.
You’re so understanding. So perfect. He doesn’t know how to explain how every time he comes in with this need for you, for you to satisfy him physically, only to come out of it a different man. Someone better. Someone more in-tuned with himself. He never had someone like that in his life. 
He looks at you like you’re a dream but he’s afraid he isn’t yours. 
You decide to move the conversation elsewhere, not wanting to end the night in such a depressive state. "Are you staying the night?" 
“Are you kicking me out?” Rafe asks tightly. 
He wants to understand you, of where you’re ranking him at. He knows he’s going to absolutely lose it if he has to go back to Tannyhill tonight. 
"No." You declare, grabbing the comforter and throwing it over your body. You should really take a shower and clean up, but you're so exhausted right now, all you want is to go to sleep and figure it out tomorrow.
"Does that mean..." He trails off, wanting to hear you say it, wanting you to ask him.
You don't.
"Whatever you want, Rafe." You yawn, rubbing your eyes. "If you stay, you stay. If you leave, just make sure to lock the door behind you."
And with that, you fell asleep.
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mina-saiyat · 2 days
Note
Sana fucking her hot manager in front of some trainees to make them know that they'll be fucktoys for their future managers
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"Dear trainees, thank you for your hard work!" Sana's sweet voice echoed throughout the dance studio through the microphone. "The next course we are going to conduct is training on idol professional ethics." Sana said with a smile, "As a qualified idol, we should always keep in mind our identity and responsibilities, especially for the company, we not only need to work hard to improve business capabilities, it is even more necessary to make good contractual arrangements with the company. "
"So, in order to let everyone understand this better, I specially invited my manager, to give a live demonstration for everyone." Sana said as she walked towards the dance practice room, "Please sit quietly, he will come in soon."
As soon as she finished speaking, a middle-aged man in a suit and leather shoes opened the door and walked in. It was Sana's manager. Sana bowed respectfully to him, then walked to him, knelt down, and began to untie his belt.
All the trainees present opened their eyes in surprise and stared at this scene in stunned silence - their goddess idol actually knelt down in such humiliation in front of a strange man?
Sana gently took off the manager's trousers, then lowered her head and took the already hard giant member into her mouth and swallowed it.
"This is one of the responsibilities we must fulfill as idols." Sana raised her head and smiled at the trainees, "If you want to make a smooth debut, you must always obey the company's arrangements and requirements. Do you understand?"
Sana stroked his lower body with the tip of her flexible tongue, making a sucking sound. Her movements were skillful and dedicated, as if she was serving her beloved lover. The trainees were all blushing and couldn't believe that this idol who had always shown a sweet image would do such a thing.
"Ah…Miss Sana, you are such an outstanding idol…" The manager sighed comfortably, stretched out his hand to pinch Sana's cheeks and fixed her mouth deeper, "Your service is great... It’s really unforgettable…"
Sana twisted her tongue in cooperation to speed up the swallowing. At the same time, she used her other hand to hold his balls and gently manipulate it. Her skills were so superb that the manager almost screamed with joy. The faces of the trainees present were also flushed, and some girls couldn't help but reach out and cover their lips.
"Sana…I'm going to cum…" The manager groaned, and all the thick white liquid shot into Sana's mouth. Sana carefully swallowed every drop before letting go of his clone.
"This is the duty of an idol." Sana smiled and wiped the traces from the corner of her mouth, "As long as you study hard, you will definitely have the opportunity to experience this process for yourself in the future."
The girls present nodded, their eyes full of admiration and desire.
The manager didn't end there, but strode forward, grabbed Sana's arm, and roughly tore off her suspender dress. S
"Dear trainees, the following is a more in-depth lesson." The manager said with a sneer, "Although Sana is an excellent idol on the surface, she is actually a dirty slut in her heart. This is A privilege only enjoyed by the company's top executives."
He pulled off Sana's underwear, and two pink breast balls popped out, and the two red cherry blossoms on the top were already erect. "Look, Sana's body is so sensitive. She gets so excited just by being touched by us." He said jokingly, holding Sana's breasts with both hands and rubbing them.
Sana was panting heavily and her body limply leaned against Mr. Li. "Ah…um…gently…Oppa…" Sana let out a few indistinct moans, and her two long legs began to rub involuntarily.
"This is the essence of idols." The manager said as he slid his fingers between Sana's legs and touched a wet heat. "They appear pure and lovely on the surface, but in fact they want to be conquered more than anyone else , being fucked hard."
Manager took off his suit pants and his huge penis popped out. He held Sana's waist and penetrated her pussy hard. Sana let out a high-pitched scream, her eyes rolled white, and her whole body was shaking.
"Everyone, take a good look at it. This is what Sana really looks like." The manager thrust harder and faster, hitting the deepest part of Sana every time. "You will be like her in the future and become a high-level person in the company, Just sex toys."
Sana completely lost her mind under manager's attack. She grabbed his arm, raised her head and screamed loudly, and tightly wrapped her legs around his waist. Manager thrust into her roughly, hitting the most sensitive spot every time, causing Sana to moan even louder.
The girls present looked in a daze. Some couldn't help but put their hands into their skirts, while others stared at the scene of Sana being fucked with blurred eyes. "This is the true face of idols." Manager said coldly, "Only through this kind of training can they learn how to please us ."
Sana's screams became louder and louder, and she felt that her climax was coming, and her muscles all tensed up. "Ah…I'm coming…Manager nim …harder…" Sana begged in a whisper, "Fuck me…fuck my pussy hard…"
The manage loss his control and increased the intensity, thrusting dozens of times quickly, and then released thick semen in the deepest part of Sana. Sana let out a high-pitched sigh, and then fell into the aftermath of her climax.
"Okay, everyone has seen it." Manager arranged his clothes and said to the trainees, "Sana has been manipulated to be submissive from her debut. Everyone must remember that the idol is just in our hands. It's just a toy, and it must always cater to our needs like her."
275 notes · View notes
caseys-breanna · 2 days
Text
Ok I just finished rewatching The Rundown Job and so far I have -
The most ridiculously peacocking display of competence porn. What do you mean "'sup Eliot." What do you mean "who needs luck". Where is your damn shame? Where is hundred more episodes of just like this? 10/10 worth every watch.
'I've got a hacker *enter bf*, and a thief *enter gf*'
Only Parker noticing 'too many cops'. It's such a cool detail throughout the show how observant she is just offhandedly, unlike Eliot who observes actively.
Parker pretending to promptly fall asleep as soon as they're in the truck, only to have the handcuffs off in seconds.
"What do they say about me? I hope they gave me a cool nickname." I'll bet all the kudos on my most popular fic that he hacks into his own pentagon file regularly to make up his own nickname.
"Hell your girlfriend's already out of the cuffs" *Parker smiling and sliding them off* AND IT'S DIRECTED NOT TO HARDISON, HER EXPLICITLY STATED BOYFRIEND, BUT AT ELIOT, THEIR BOYFRIEND.
Putting Hardison in those glasses. Those damn glasses. I need a glass of water jfc it's hot in here
'For better or worse, we change together'. Aaaaaand that's on wedding vows.
"I'll drive." "Hold on." "Exactly." "No, I mean hold on. (Our gf is a former gateway car driver)". "Oh. Oh you mean. Yeah."
The hand on the wrist and eye contact and saying 'I'm not afraid. I got the best thief and the smartest guy I know chasing this guy'
HAND ON THE BACK OF THE NECK AND PULLING CLOSER 'HEY LISTEN TO ME YOU'RE THE SMARTEST GUY I'VE EVER KNOWN HARDISON I NEED THAT BRAIN TO GET ME TO HIM. GET ME TO HIM'. Screaming crying frothing at the mouth et cetera et cetera
Figuring out the job TOGETHER
This is Hardison. Hardison likes his personal space. These are Parker and Eliot. Parker and Eliot also like Hardison's personal space.
The eyes on each other's lips during unlocking doors and saying thank you
'Kiss for luck?' the sequel: love boogaloo
HACKING THE MF CAR HORN WITH AN SOS THROUGH A MOBILE PHONE
"BOOM MY BOY THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT!!!" first of all that's his boy so jot that down
Also side note this episode shows the fascinating way Hardison uses his brain and I wish we saw more of it because it's fascinating how he derives what he does from the few bits of data he gathers
"He's on the train!" "Yeah well so am I." "When you pick him out of the crowd-" "No. I'm ON the train! 🙄 Never mind..."
Two good ole boys behind the wheel 🎶 chasing the target and their gf in a million dollar car 🎵 two good ole boys-
*Hanging by her fingertips from a running train roof almost mashed into pulp by signage" WOOOOOO HOOOOO
The way Parker picks him out, not by using thief sense, but mastermind sense that he's immune -> got vaccinated -> pain in the arm. Brilliant way to pick someone out from a crowd while not raising panic
Keeping him talking till she takes the briefcase that he HANDCUFFED to himself right under his nose. How? Well, she's Parker.
"I kept one diamond. Sorry." I love her
Finally "kiss for luck" the trilogy comes to an end
*casually endangers self* "Fire is the only thing that kills it right?"
"Don't do that to me, I can't lose you. Do you understand? I can't lose you. Don't scare me like that. I can't-"
Eliot Spencer: *Barks 'Alright!' at the guy touching him to literally patch up his bullet wound.* Also Eliot Spencer: *ditches crutches so he can lean on his girlfriend and boyfriend*
"I work with them now." Would you like to stay for dinner? "Honor among thieves? Something like that." WOULD YOU LIKE TO STAY FOREVER??!!!
"I don't do hospital." "I told you, he takes getting shot very lightly." Uh huh, you know what I smell? LOVE. In the air! Might be some blood from those bullet wounds too ig.
What a show.
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exhaslo · 18 hours
Note
Hi again! I hope you’re doing well. I see you’re open for requests, and I have an interesting and NSFW one.
So we already have fics involving Miguel having a heat/mating cycle due to his spliced DNA with Spider DNA. How about Spider![Reader] [FEMALE] being in heat this time and she avoids everyone in the Spider Society, especially Miguel, her own “secret boyfriend”. She’s usually friendly with everyone, but recently acting like she was “sick” and doesn’t want anyone near her. However, Miguel caught wind of this and he brought her back to his lair/office (as a caring boyfriend worried about his girlfriend), [Reader] begs him to “help” with her situation.
Then things got heated and he helped relieve [Reader]’s libido.
- @club-danger-zone
Hehehehehehehe
Warning: MINORS DNI, Smut, breeding kink, overstimulation, begging, creampie, fingering
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What did you do so wrong in your life to deserve this horrible side effect of being half-Spider?
Why did such a thing have to happen to you?
This felt like a cruel punishment given only to you. The hero of this damn city. Someone who fought for those who couldn't; someone who fought for good; why did you have to be cursed with something so tempting and primal?
You suffered from heat, or a mating cycle as some would call it. Every now and then you would suddenly have to urge to have sex and want to get pregnant. It wasn't something you could control, nor did you enjoy suffering from it.
You had tolerated it for the most part. Save up enough money so you could call out of work during this time. Had a variety of different toys to pleasure yourself with until the pain goes away.
But this time, it was different.
You weren't sure why, but honestly you could make a few guesses. There were only a few small changes in your life since the last heat cycle. Between your personal issues and the Spider Society, your main guess for the new pain was...
Your boyfriend.
You've never been in a relationship before until now. Your heat was going crazy probably because you had a source to get pregnant now. The only issue is that you and Miguel hadn't gotten that far yet. The two of you were in a secret relationship.
Miguel was the leader of the Spider Society. It was frowned upon to be dating between dimensions. Miguel always said that you were a special case, which was why he broke that rule. You loved Miguel and were happy with him...but you never told him this secret.
Groaning softly, you laid against your bed, your fingers working furiously. Nothing was good enough. Nothing was reliving you. Your heat wasn't going away.
Recalling how Miguel's futurist world had cures for nearly everything, you felt a light bulb appear. Perhaps, there was something to calm down your heat? Hurrying to your suit, you whimpered as you used your watch to transport to the Spider Society.
-------
Miguel had just returned from a mission, grunting loudly as he dragged the anomaly behind him. Miguel was tired and frustrated. As he walked around the Spider Society, Miguel couldn't help but hear some of the others talk about you acting strange.
Curious about what was going on with his girlfriend, Miguel hurried to find you. He threw the anomaly in the cell and had Lyla search for your watch location. He was surprised to find you in one of the bathrooms.
Making his way over, Miguel made sure to enter when no one else was inside. He locked the door and approached the stall you were in.
"(Y/n), are you alright, mi amor? (My love)" Miguel asked softly as you cried.
"N-No, I'm in pain, Miggy," You sobbed. Miguel quickly opened the door, bending down to your level,
"What's wrong?" He asked, wiping your tears away.
Miguel watched as your breathing shuddered the moment he touched you. The look in your eyes were lustful as you merely whimpered, tugging against his arm. You were acting strange. Miguel went to pick you up, causing you to whine and wrap your arms around his neck.
"Migs...P-Please help me. I need...I need you." Your voice was so desperate and sweet.
"(Y/n), is this a side effect of your spider biting you in your world?" Miguel asked softly as he quickly took you to his lair.
"Mhm, y-yes. I...I'm in....h-heat," You were so cute as you barely got the words out.
"Ah-"
Miguel finally felt the click as you told him. Looking around at his large lair, Miguel knew that this would not be private enough, nor comfortable for you. So, he took you to a spare bedroom in the Spider Society and locked the door.
Right as Miguel turned around, you had already taken your clothes off. You were on your knees, practically crying as you begged Miguel to hurry.
"Aye, amor, how can I go easy on you like this?"
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Your mind was starting to grow fuzzy. The pain was too much, especially since Miguel was going to help you. Your clothes were getting uncomfortable so you had to remove them. You inhaled deeply as Miguel approached you, stroking your cheek.
"Mhm~"
The warmth of his hand instantly melted you. You grabbed onto Miguel, pulling him in for a kiss. It was sloppy, but you needed this. Miguel proceeded to press your body against the bed as his tongue ravished your mouth.
His hands were all over you, giving you that desperate touch you needed. Gasping, Miguel's fingers easily entered your soaked cunt, touching you in all the places you had been needing to be touch. The curl of his fingers against your gummy walls, caused you to moan and cry.
"So wet, amor. How long have you suffered from this?"
"Ah~ Ah~ S-So long....n-need you, Miggy~" You cried, shaking from cumming against his fingers.
"No, (Y/n), how long today."
"Hnnn, hours! M-Miguel, please! F-Fuck me!" You begged.
Your body needed more. The burning sensation was finally starting to go away, you just needed more. Miguel grunted softly, kissing your neck as he raised your legs. You were clenching to air, anticipating the fantastic feeling you were about to endure.
Tears started to form as you felt Miguel poke your entrance. His kisses a bit more rough as his cock started to make room inside of you. Pure bliss soared from your pussy to your brain as his thick cock stretched your gummy walls.
"I always imagined our first time...a bit more romantic," Miguel whispered, grunting softly as he kept pushing.
"S-Sorry t-that...ah~ I-I can't...mhm contro-"
"Shh, don't be sorry," Miguel grunted, finally setting fully inside of you, "I'll make sure to give you as much as you want. I'm happy to help."
You just moaned to his words, feeling his cock kissing your cervix. Your pussy fluttering around his cock as you cam from insertion. The warmth you were feeling was building up inside you. That knot growing as you moved your hips, needing more friction.
With each thrust, you started to lose your senses. Every slap of Miguel's hips brought you to heaven. Your body just melted against his as the noises the two of you made because almost pornographic. The wet slapping noises over powering his grunts.
"You're so loud, amor. Everyone will hear you," Miguel grunted as he pressed you into mating position, "What do I have to do to keep you quiet?"
"C-Cum, ah~ i-inside~" You cried, shuddering from the overstimulation.
The burning sensation was finally going away and all you wanted was Miguel to fill you. Breed you. Each slap of his cock inside you was almost painful from how sensitive you were. Jolts were shocking every part of you.
"Anything for you,"
Miguel groaned softly in your ear as he gave you his first hot load. You moaned, shuddering from cumming again. Your body was feeling sore, but you kept begging for more. This was too good to stop. Miguel's cock made it's home inside of you.
-------
Miguel gripped your hips as he kept fucking you stupid. Your moans were so loud and sexy that he couldn't hold back. Your pussy was dripping against the bedsheets, coating his cock white. His cum threatening to spill out of your poor pussy.
Your eyes were glossed over with a fucked out expression, drool nearly rolling down your lips. Cursing lowly as Miguel felt you squeezer against his dick again, he tried to control himself. Your body kept begging for more, no matter how fragile you both were now.
"Mig-" You choked, sobbing from pleasure, "M-More...j-just..."
Your words were barely coming out. Miguel frowned at the state you were in, but couldn't refuse. He brought you in for another deep kiss before giving you another heavy load.
--------
A soft groan escaped your lips as you started to wake up. Your vision was blurred, but once you started to come to, you noticed that you were in Miguel's place.
"Hn-" You winced, trying to sit up but couldn't.
"Don't move. You're body is still sore and exhausted. Here's some water," Miguel sighed softly, sitting beside you to give you the drink, "How are you feeling now?"
"M-Miguel," Your voice was low and scratchy, "I-I'm sorry...I...I made you-"
"You didn't make me do anything. I offered to help, besides, I can't resist my poor girlfriend in pain," He cooed, kissing your head.
"Sorry,"
"Just next time, (Y/n), tell me when your heat starts. I want to make sure you get your fill before you come crying to me."
Feeling your cheeks burn with embarrassment, you nuzzled against Miguel, agreeing to his offer. Hopefully with Miguel helping you, there will be less heats.
Ha.
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Hope you enjoyed!!!
235 notes · View notes
grandlinedreams · 2 days
Text
|| this man is an exposed live wire in my brain ok
|| notes: uhh prequel to [this] and [this], semi Canon compliant, pre-s1 but mentions of pre-war Cooper, I love the dynamic 😔👌✨️
|| warnings: hopefully IC Cooper, asshole x asshole dynamic we love to see it, weapons/supply dealer!reader, Canon typical violence, mention of blood/reader is injured kinda, spoilers? Abt Cooper's backstory, kinda enemies to friends/lovers
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He doesn't know why he's here.
No, that's a lie ㅡ he does know why he's here, he just doesn't want to admit it. To himself, or to anyone else, for that matter. That he needs help.
Those fancy little bullets for his gun are hard to come by, few and far between when he can't get them by looting and places like Ma June's enjoy extorting as much as they can for so very little.
There's a difference between business transactions and highway robbery, even now. Which is why he's here ㅡ he'd gotten talk about a place that sold weapons and weapon-related supplies at a fair rate, and necessity had made him swallow his pride to go and find out for himself.
Which is why he's not just turning around and fuckin' leaving.
The building is crammed between two others, as ramshackle as the rest being made of recycled tin and wood that's rotted by time and rain in places, but still suggests a stability that won't crumble if somebody breathes too hard on it.
Cooper's spurs jingle as he walks, lost momentarily to the chime of something over his head when he pushes the door open. He looks up, forehead creasing.
Is that a bell?
Rusted but still in working order, it clatters again when he shuts the door, looking around. It's about as put together as any other kind of shop, an eclectic organization to it ㅡ a couple of rifles, a pistol or two, along with an admittedly impressive assortment of knives ㅡ but it's the shine of something on the floor that makes Cooper stop.
His head cocks as he studies the stain, the still-slick shimmer to it that makes him crouch and drag two gloved fingers against it, studying the residue. Coppery, with a hefty dose of some kind of chem to clean it, but still unmistakable ㅡ blood.
Well damn. He doesn't know what's happened here and he's pretty sure he doesn't care to, much beyond the fact that if the runner of this place is dead, that puts a damper on things. Or maybe not ㅡ if nobody's here, what's to stop him from taking what he wants?
"If you're thinkin' of stealing," comes a call that snaps his head up as it echoes from further back in the building, "I'd advise you not to. Less you wanna meet your maker, then I'd be happy to assist."
It's a flat bravado that both amuses him and piques his interest, and he leans against the counter to rap his knuckles. "Not stealin'," he drawls, "just wonderin' what kind of business model you've got if you make customers wait."
"The kind where patience is still a virtue, that's what." Foosteps, unhurried ㅡ and then Cooper is staring at you as you round the corner. You've got a jumpsuit of some indistinguishable color opened to rest around your hips, dingy tank-top underneath ㅡ and a stimpak in your hand. No doubt for the mess of your other arm, bicep wrapped with gauze that's already seeped into a bloom of bright red.
Well now. Cooper wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, but you still manage to surprise him. Enough that he's staring, which makes you scowl.
"I know that look," you challenge, "if you think I'm easy picking, you'll get a new place to breathe from, courtesy of the hole I'll put in your head."
Cooper's head cocks. "Well now sugar," he says, "that's not very nice now, is it? Wasn't even thinkin' of that." He turns, jerks a thumb at the half-assed cleaning of the mess on the floor. "That's your doin', I reckon."
You nod. "Don't get trouble much," you say, "but when I do, I make sure to prove a point." You jam the stimpak into your arm, and he watches the tension melt from your shoulders. "Now, what can I do for you besides point out the exit?"
Well damn, Cooper thinks again. You've got a pretty face, but it's at odds with the attitude coming from that nice little mouth of yours. About as welcoming as a rattlesnake and probably just as quick to anger, from the way you bristle as he eyes you.
"Need supplies," he says, and you snort.
"What a wellspring of information you are. What kind of supplies?" You eye him, brow furrowing. "You're a bounty hunter, aren't you? Get your kind in here all the time." You tap a worn boot against the floor, hands now on your hips. "Hope you got means to pay for shit, because I don't do tab and I sure as fuck don't do charity work."
Cooper isn't sure if he likes you or he hates you. Bit of both, he guesses. The like is tentative and the hate is more solid ground, because he hates just about everybody. Makes it easier to do what needs to be done.
"Well, sweetheart," he leans into the counter, tips his hat, "depends on what you got to show me that's worth buyin'."
You stare, unimpressed by whatever angle he's going for. He's handsome, you'll give him that ㅡ but not much else. He also reminds you of somebody, with that hat of his and the way he talks ㅡ the low, drawn out drawl that you've only seen in those movies you manage to scrounge up here and there for your amusement.
Rolling your eyes, you hold up a finger and shrug your arms back into the jumpsuit, though you don't bother to zip it up. "Gimme a sec."
You don't know why you're doing this. Entertaining the notion that if you show him good enough product, he'll become a regular. You like regulars, but most of what you get seem to run on about six months worth of visits and then vanish.
Probably dead. Such is the way of the world, and it's still enough to get by. But you like new faces.
To his credit, he doesn't flinch when you slap the first pack onto the counter, followed by a second, and then a third.
"This is baseline stuff," you explain. "Your usual grade of bullet. Black powder, the standard kick." You shove the first pack at him, let him inspect the bullets. "Then you've got these."
The second pack shoved over, thin fabric parted so he can eye the neat little row of what would be hollow-point bullets if they didn't end with a tiny, pointed bulb of red glass.
"Explosive rounds." Your expression is unreadable. "They do the job, but they need special packing. Unless you wanna be blown up before the damn things even get loaded into the gun."
Cooper hums, eyes the bullet he holds up, the barely there shift of powder in the glass. He watches as you push the third over. "And these?"
"Same, but they pack even more of a punch. I'd recommend only shooting them at shit you want up in smoke." You shrug. "Or people, deathclaws, whatever the fuck you do out there."
Cooper studies you. "Where did you get this stuff? Thought bullets were hard to come by."
You give him a flat look of annoyance. "I make 'em myself."
Cooper stares, then smirks. Another little tip to his head. "Really now," he says, watches you bristle like a viper, ready to strike. Wonders if those fangs of yours pack a punch, what he'd need to do to get you to spit at him. "How 'bout you show me, darlin'? Wanna make sure what I buy is good quality."
You should tell him to shove it. Tell him to get the absolute fuck out of your shop, take his fuckin' yeehaw personality to someone else in the mood to deal with it ㅡ but you don't.
Instead, you sigh and tug the packages back, moving away from the counter. "Well c'mon then," you prompt, irritated. "Don't have all goddamn day."
The back of your shop is half a home and half a workshop, sprawled mess of equipment rusted with time but otherwise well maintained, smell of grease and hot metal and gunpowder that clings to everything.
You don't have to look back to know he's followed you, the jingle of his spurs as he takes his time, eyes missing nothing. The boxes of empty casings and empty glass bulbs ㅡ and the Mister Handy that's slumped in the corner, sparks spitting from it.
"Poor thing got shot first with that...situation earlier." Your voice is quiet. "Gotta fix 'im if I can."
Kind of funny, you sound sadder about the damn machine than the fact you'd killed someone over it. Then again, they'd been trying to kill you, so...eh. Justified, in your book.
The rest of the room is a haphazard attempt at something like a house ㅡ a couch with blankets on it, a short stack of books gone yellow at the edges, a coffee table ㅡ and sitting on it is a shitty little television, staticy and without color ㅡ but that doesn't matter. What matters to Cooper is that he knows what it's playing.
Your flitting around fades a little as he watches himself on screen ㅡ forever ago, a lifetime ago. Before the bombs, before vault-tec ㅡ when he'd been happy.
He'd loved his life, his family ㅡ and they'd loved him too.
"I've got enough stuff to make another round of flash-baㅡ" You stop, blinking at the way he's staring at the television. "Somethin' wrong? I know this isn't much, but it's my way of living, soㅡ"
"Stop your yappin'," Cooper rasps, and you glare as he shakes himself out of whatever reverie he was lost in. You scowl.
"Look, I know this doesn't seem like much of anything, but this is my business, and my shop." Your eyes narrow. "So try to be a little fuckin' nicer if you want me to sell you anything."
Whatever patience he'd had left promptly snaps like a bowstring as he snatches your arm, grips it tighter than he should. "Listen, sweetheart," he hisses, "what exactly is stopping me from just takin' what I want and leaving?"
Something whirrs behind him, distracts him just enough for the cool, sharp kiss of metal at his throat.
"Do it," you taunt, expression unreadable, grip tight on the blade you hold to his neck. "You're not the first one to try, and you won't be the last."
And there, Cooper notes, are your fangs, ready to sink into his skin. The two of you stare at each other for a good, long minute while the Mister Handy spits and sputters. And then Cooper huffs something like a laugh. "Glad to see you've got some bite to you, darlin', but I still think I could handle you."
A threat and something a little less hostile all in one, even as you yank your arm out of his grasp. "You couldn't handle me even if I came with a fuckin' manual," you snap back, but there's a playful gleam to your eyes. "You gonna buy anything or just lookin' to be a pain in my ass?"
A crooked grin tugs at Cooper's mouth. "Both."
The truce between the two of you is tentative. An understanding in the barest sense, because neither of you are dumb enough to pass up a lucrative, beneficial deal. He gets his supplies, you get caps. Simple.
You won't go as far as to say you're even friends, up until the point that you greet him on a visit with, "You know, you remind me of somebody."
He eyes you. "Really now. And who would that be, sweetheart? You workin' with more ghouls than just me?"
You snort. "Careful," you tease, "you almost sound jealous." Your tone quiets as you drum your fingers on the counter. "Nah, you remind me of that one actor, Cooper Howard."
Cooper stills. Watches you warily, turning a spent bullet casing over and over between gloved fingers.
"He played a cowboy," you say, nodding to yourself. "Talked like you do, too. Good movies, at least the ones I've gotten my hands on." You eye him, playful light to your eyes. "Wouldn't happen to be a fan of him too, would you?"
Cooper debates. He's not sure if you've put the pieces together and if you have, you're polite enough not to say it. He appreciates that, makes that fleeting temptation of putting a bullet in your head all the more temporary. He likes you. Be a shame if he had to cut ties.
"No," he answers. "I can safely say he and I are nothin' alike." Not anymore. He lets himself lean over the counter, too close to your face. Intimidation, maybe, or perhaps just because he likes being able to look at you like this. "Got anythin' else to tell me?"
Your eyes flick over his face, down to his lips as you lean a little closer, the suggestion of your mouth just shy of his. "Yeah," you murmur, quiet. "Next time you come by, work on your fuckin' manners."
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fandoms-in-law · 1 day
Text
Manual Mood Ring
Summary: To keep up popularity and the Harrington reputation Steve couldn't show many emotions. That didn't mean he didn't feel them, only that he didn't always recognise what feelings he hid. So he wore rings, swapped them out according to his moods. And a few people noticed them.
Authors note: It won the poll by 1 vote and honestly I'm glad about it. In typing the other fic up I realised how not finished it is. This has been a great fic to procrastinate work with over the last couple weeks, but I'm glad with where I finished it.
/\/\
Steve would never say, except to Robin, but it all began because of Eddie and curiosity. If the guys he'd been friends with at the start of high school had paid attention, they could've worked it out too, but none of them thought twice when the week after he noticed, and accidentally cause some bullying over, Eddie's rings, Steve came in wearing one of his own.
The ring, or rather rings, he wore weren't expensive, just simple things he'd spotted in a shop window, but somehow everyone thought it was a wealth thing when they noticed it and so far as Steve heard, nobody realised there were 6 different rings he'd swap out. They definitely didn't question when he swapped them either, not even Nancy.
Robin did know. She only admitted noticing them when Steve dragged her out to buy more after the Russians took his original rings and none of the government agents mentioned finding them. She was the one who asked about why he needed multiple rings when he'd only wear one at a time.
It didn't help the assumptions they were dating when Robin insisted on taking his hand to check which ring he was wearing every time they met up after the explanation that he used them as an indication or self check-in of his mood.
/\/\
Eddie knew Steve Harrington wore a ring. When he started to the gossip in Hawkins High said his father insisted on it due to a tradition but if that was the case then the ring was too plain in Eddie’s opinion.
Then he noticed Harrington changing rings after getting a question wrong in class and was certain the rumour was wrong, even if he couldn't figure out the actual reason for it straight away. After he'd seen that first swap, it was too clear for him to notice the times that the ring got changed, especially since he decided to try and figure out why Harrington would do that.
Spotting Harrington's ring enough to tell the differences in it wasn't easy in school, especially outside of their shared classes, but a theory soon grew in Eddie's mind of them being some sort of manual mood ring. This was only backed up when he visited Scoops Ahoy once or twice over the summer.
Before the fire Eddie even thought he was close to knowing what emotions some of the rings might indicate, but they all changed after that, not even one remained the same as before and, thankfully for Eddie's curiosity, the new ones had more noticeable differences.
With all his curiosity over Harrington's rings, it confused him to realise the kids he'd brought into Hellfire seemed to know nothing of them. Once Mike even commented ' Steve would be cooler if he just wore rings like Eddie's.' as if he wasn't already wearing one constantly. Eddie could spot it glinting on Harrington's finger when he picked them up afterwards, not hidden at all.
From paying attention to those lifts and Harrington's expressions and reactions to the brats gave Eddie some clues on what colour or general shape of rings matched good or bad moods, even if he never saw the detailing on them.
Except for one.
Eddie saw one ring in detail once. Hellfire had an extra club meeting that apparently none of the kids Harrington gave a lift to had mentioned to him until he came storming through the school half panicked. Even after confirming they were safe Harrington made everyone move along the table so he could sit next to Eddie and listen until the end.
The ring that time was in a woven pattern, made of silver and Eddie was certain it meant fear or stress. It had to, given how Harrington only looked away from his kids to watch the door or, for some reason, analyse the ceiling for damage and suspiciously eye the lights.
Who knew getting an answer about one of the rings meanings could give Eddie so many more questions?
/\/\
Survival and fear were the only things going through Eddie's mind. He didn't know what happened to Chrissie or if it would happen to him next. He didn't know if he was trying to hide from that or from the town he was sure would blame him.
He definitely wasn't calm enough to recognise any of the voices yelling for him and dived into the boat as they got closer.
The conversation of the group looking for him was heard but barely understood as Eddie tried to get ready to jump up and fight or run through the hard jabs from an oar he thought was mentioned.
It wasn't the oar or the gaze of the man he pinned that broke through Eddie's fear when he decided to get out.
The hand holding the oar wore a silver woven ring. It wasn't polished and definitely showed signs of tarnishing in the indented areas and it echoed how he felt. He knew the ring and what emotion he was certain it meant.
And he knew that other rings were kept in the back pocket from classes where they'd get swapped out. Those are what he reached for now, still pinning Harrington with one hand which made it harder to separate the bronze ring that tended to be worn if he'd be joking when picking the kids up.
“Guess you're not here to have a go at me, or this would be worn.” Eddie mutters eventually into the silence that had fallen in the boathouse.
“I wouldn't do that. Dustin would never talk to me again if I did that. And how do you know anything about my rings?�� Steve's words tumbled past each other, but seemed more confused now, instead of the panic he'd shown when first getting pinned.
“What rings?” Dustin demanded, somewhere behind Eddie.
Steve glanced over, “Forget the rings actually. What happened? We want to help.”
/\/\
Steve hadn't changed his ring in days.
Eddie glanced at it each time they came to give him supplies, came to try and talk him into staying with one of them despite how they'd need to hide him from parents, every time he got the change to.
It was still the silver woven effect ring.
He could only hope he'd live to see another ring take its place and was beginning to suspect Steve was hoping the same thing. A few times he'd been caught looking at the hand wearing the ring, but Steve never said anything, only brought his hand back to the pocket with the rest of them.
“You got the bronze ring wrong.” Robin commented on one of the few moments everyone else was distracted. “It's not when Steve's truly happy or whatever you think.”
Eddie glanced at her, gaze returning to Steve straight away. “What is it then?”
“Forced positivity. It's when he's struggling to believe we want him here so tries to reach out subtly for most of them.” She explained.
“And you?”
“Check his rings when I first see him so give him reassurance as needed. Although you might've changed its meaning now.” Her words sounded slow as if she was musing on the idea. “We'll see after Vecna's defeated.”
Eddie wasn't quite sure what to make of that but Robin was already over with Steve again, catching up with whatever they were working on. At least being in hiding gave him lots of time to think through her cryptic comments for breaks from panicking.
/\/\
“That's my ring.” Eddie stated. He'd been staring at the hand since waking up, originally cause it was clinging tightly and then as his memories filtered through the medication clouding his brain, to see if Steve was still stressed out. How was he meant to understand seeing his own ring being worn by Steve?
Steve's chuckle was watery, and there were tears in his eyes when Eddie looked up. “Yeah, mine now. Glad you're awake finally.”
Somehow that was what made him realise he had none of his rings on at all. “Where are the rest? What does my ring have the honour of meaning?” They felt like dumb questions but Eddie was scared to ask the more serious ones.
“Dustin's got them and your pic necklace. He'll be here as soon as visiting hours start along with at least a few of the other brats. Not sure which are seeing you first today other than him. Wayne's at the trailer salvaging what he can. Added me as an emergency contact so you wouldn't wake up alone.” Steve offered, thankfully guessing what he'd want to know first. “As for the ring, I don't know. I've been a mess, unable to figure out what I'm feeling so it's currently a question mark ring.”
That felt like a familiar feeling as Eddie blinked. He had no clue why things would need salvaging from the trailer at all. “What happened?”
The explanation carried on through the kids arriving, Dustin trying to push the rings onto Eddie and being stopped by nurses not wanting the jewellery in the way, and plenty of interruptions and additions. It covered how the attack that had left him in an induced coma to heal had only partly succeeded and everything that had come after and ended with Steve pushing his hair back into place sighing, “Thankfully most of us decided against sleeping through it all. Vecna is gone now and we're just waiting for people to wake up and heal.”
“And get Steve to explain how he's worn a ring so long without us knowing.” Dustin insisted, glaring at said man.
Eddie grinned, shaking his head alongside Steve. “It's not the king's fault if his friends don't pay attention to him. After all, I'd never spoken to him before all of this and I knew about the rings.”
“Lies.” Robin called, appearing in the doorway. “You spoke to him precisely 7 times as I never served you when you came into Scoops.”
Steve tilted his head, thinking before he shook his head at her. “Nope. He just pointed and handed over the money. I spoke to him before it all, but not the reverse. Such an unsociable customer.”
“You couldn't get Eddie Munson to talk to you? That board needed more tallies under you suck.” Robin teased, coming over and smiling at Eddie. “How are you feeling?”
For a moment it was silent as Eddie didn't realise the Steve and Robin show had finished with a question to him. “Oh, I'm – Honestly I feel like I died and this is a bizarre form of purgatory. Could be hell from the pain levels but you're all being too nice for that.”
/\/\
Robin loved Steve's rings. She saw them as a small rebellion against his parents rigid views of gender as well as a good idea for someone who wasn't often allowed to express his emotions.
Even before she knew what they showed, back when they were just co-workers and former classmates, she paid attention to the rings and the ways Steve swapped them out. She knew the original set of 6 almost as well as she knew the ones she'd helped Steve find to replace them.
And she knew they definitely shouldn't be in Nancy Wheeler's jewellery box, still bagged with a label from the US government stating they had been goods confiscated by the Russians.
When she saw them it wasn't sensible to mention it. They were still dealing with Vecna and trying to find out more about him, but she remembered and once everything was over, and all that was left to do was healing, she wasn't going to stay silent any more.
“You know, Nancy, I've had a question for a while.” She stated, off hand, but laser focused on getting answers.
It was just her, Steve and Nancy for the moment so seemed like the best time to bring it up without anyone else interfering.
Nancy didn't seemed concerned either, just smiling. “Which is?”
“You never had anything to do with the Russians during the Starcourt fiasco, right?” Robin didn't immediately mention the rings, knowing just bringing up any of the events was likely to get the guard up of all of them.
Guarded eyes now looked at her, and beside her, Robin knew Steve was trying to catch her eye to silently ask what she was doing. “No. You know I was researching for the paper or with the kids basically the entire time.” Nancy agreed.
“Okay. So why, when we were trying to figure out info on Vecna, did I find a bag of items labelled as things the Russians had confiscated in your jewellery box?” Robin still didn't mention the rings, but knew Steve would immediately think of them.
After being given his keys back he'd tried asking about them but been told nothing else was found. Both of them had watched the government agent then go to talk to other members of their group but assumed that wasn't regarding any other items.
Nancy narrowed her eyes, but stood, going over to the jewellery box to get the bag. “Because the government agents said they'd found them and they seemed most likely to belong to me.”
Robin nodded, holding her hand out for the bag. “So little miss reporter got handed some items she knew definitely weren't hers and instead of say, asking any of the people who had actually been in the Russian base if they knew whose they were decided to keep them for herself and never question the origins?” She challenged, reaching out to take them when Nancy showed no sign of handing them over.
“I recognised them. I've tried remembering why I recognise them so I could return them.” Nancy insisted.
“Again, why didn't you just ask me, ask Steve, Dustin, Erica, if any of us knew who these rings belonged to?” Robin challenged, Steve's hand coming to rest palm up on her shoulder although he remained silently watching the scene.
Nancy glared, “Because I should know whose they are.” She snapped. “If I could just-”
“Pay more attention to the people around you, you'd know.” Steve interrupted when it looked like Nancy would go into a rant about her memory to try and justify not asking. “The reason you'd recognise these is I was always wearing one of them the entire time you knew me.” His voice was calm, but Robin could feel the tension in him, and a glance over at him showed his current rings had been swapped. She didn't think he'd go back to using the set she held even as she put the bag in his hand.
For a moment it looked like Nancy would scoff before she narrowed her eyes on Steve's hands, as if only just realising he still wore a ring. “But why would there be 6 of them?” She asked. “Only Eddie wears that many or more at a time.”
“Because I swap them out when I feel like it.” That wasn't the explanation Robin had received and she doubted the full one would be offered right now. “Thanks for returning them finally. I'm more annoyed that even when I asked specifically about the rings those agents didn't mention them to me at all.”
“Oh.” Nancy deflated as she realised Steve wasn't going to yell at her. She seemed not to notice Robin's gaze was still hard. “Yeah, sorry I didn't remember or, as Robin rightly said, ask whose they were earlier.”
At that Robin leant forward again, knowing her smile was colder than she'd normally direct at friends. “Please do ask if this happens in the future, because Steve shouldn't have had to replace his rings for you to delay solving a mystery this long.”
Nancy nodded, “I will. Are you two sure you aren't-?”
“Best friends and protective friends at that. You might be pretty but you aren't Stevie.” Robin reaffirmed, before sighing and trying to let her annoyance go. “Shall we put a film on or something?”
Steve hopped up, going to the stairs to listen for where Nancy's parents might be. “Probably not a film. I think Ted is still watching something, unless you're about to suggest going back to mine.”
“Funnily enough, Dingus, I was.” Robin agreed, also getting up. If she hadn't wanted to get him his rings back she'd have suggested going there to hang out from the start but now that was done she would happily swap hang out locations.
/\/\
Perhaps he'd just been young, but Steve had never thought he'd have to get more rings, after finding six of them. Emotions had seemed simple to him, nothing like the tumult he'd been going through and while six rings had stretched before now he was learning that getting more was necessary.
He didn't question how, in getting those original rings back, he knew that one already meant heartbreak and grief, while the rest weren't needed any more. It just seemed reasonable; an escalation of the swap from the ring saying everything is good to saying his world was crashing before he lost them, to now having its hopefully final meaning be grief.
Then there was Eddie's ring, the mixed feelings ring, or as Steve still thought of it, a question mark ring. He hadn't meant to claim it, but when taking the rings off so the hospital didn't dispose of them he hadn't been able to let it go, even to hand it to Dustin. He'd covered by swapping it out with the stressed ring and repeating that Eddie wanted him to wear a different ring.
Honour: A word Steve had only ever heard directed to him jokingly, but Eddie used for his ring being worn. It boggled his mind a bit to realise how sincere the other was being with him. A lot of things did when it came to Eddie, like the fact he'd called Steve a good person out of nowhere and without prompting. Most people just complained about or insulted who he used to be and when he tried talking with Robin about it she'd got mad at herself before repeating how good a person he was now. That hadn't helped his bewilderment, just added another cause for it.
“Dingus, why are you glaring at your rings and a notebook?” Robin asked, draping over his shoulder and bringing Steve's mind back into Family Video and the slow work day they were trying to keep busy through.
“I need more of them but don't want to go around with even more rings in my pocket. Or know how to label what feelings they'd be for.” He grumbled.
She leant closer, forcing Steve to bend with her so she could see the notebook better. “Yeah starting from scratch is dumb. Write what you have rings for already, Your terms not mine or anyone else's, and see what you think is missing after that. Then see which stand out as unlikely to be worn often. Those could live in your car or wallet or something instead of your pocket.” Saying this she moved to his side and laid the rings out on a clear page of the notebook.
As Steve considered the idea Robin wandered off to check on the only customer. It was a pretence he knew, but one he's grateful for, even as the biggest necessity in his list becomes evident.
There's nuance, and different rings for sadness, anger, confusion, embarrassment, heartbreak, but only 'good' and 'trying to see positives' for good emotions. Good was one he barely knew how to quantify now and 'trying to see positives' didn't actually feel good to wear. But Steve wasn't feeling constantly bad, he knew that. He felt hopeful, amused, warm, and loved; like these friends were a real family.
Plus the question mark ring was where good and bad emotions were fighting in him.
“Do you think Eddie will come ring shopping with us?” He called out, settling on the four emotions he needed new rings for and looking around the store for the first time in a while.
“I think I can fit that in, yes Stevie.” Eddie replied, leaning on the counter opposite him. Robin was stood beside him looking over at Steve in amusement.
He shifted a little, looking between them, expecting to get teased. “You've been here how long?”
“Couple minutes, was going to block the page to say hi but you looked so adorably focused.” Eddie shrugged. “Are these all your current ring meanings? You've still not told me-” The words broke off as he read the list, fingers tapping over empty spots noted for new rings
Robin had started snickering, needing no words to tease once Steve met her gaze, but stopped in confusion at Eddie's reaction. “Sure they are. He's decided he needs to show more emotions than that now.”
“Like more positive ones, you mean?” He asked, a sharp gaze stabbing at her. “Little Miss Platonic, why haven't you told him to get more or change all the meanings so he doesn't only have negative emotions to show sooner?”
“What?” The demand was when Steve realised their focus might be surrounding him but it didn't currently involve him. “When did those change?”
He blinked at them, seeing a tussle break out for the notebook and wondering what Robin meant as he glanced as the ring on his finger now, bronze, looking for positivity, then back to her. “They didn't?” He asked, trying to remember what he'd told her they meant. He'd probably described situations which made him change to each ring he was replacing after Starcourt since describing his feelings isn't easy without them. “What did you think they meant?”
Instead of saying anything she snatched the pen to start writing her understanding of the rings down, Eddie's eyes getting wider as he read them. “That's – That's some difference.”
“Did I explain when I'd swap to wearing them before?” Steve asked, unable to read upside down and just getting frowned at as Robin made it clear he had and she didn't like the meaning mix-up it had apparently caused. “You still know how to help anyway.” He tried to reassure, hoping to lessen the glare.
“Just how pissed should I be at Nancy?” Robin demanded instead, angrily gesturing to the embarrassment ring. “How much didn't you say when I thought you might date her again?”
Both Steve and Eddie stepped back from her anger as Steve frantically tried to remember what he'd used to explain that ring and how it involved Nancy. “You literally said you didn't need to know that story.”
“Apparently I do now if just her visiting your workplace has you feeling embarrassed enough to change rings over it.” Robin insisted. “So, story-time please Steve. What happened with Nancy Wheeler?”
/\/\
“Did you argue with Buckley?” Jonathan asked, sitting down beside Nancy and taking in the glare levelled at them.
She looked over as well but soon looked away. “The rings were Steve's. She found them but didn't seem this mad then.”
For a moment he just nodded, before straightening to look for Steve. “I didn't imagine the rings he used to wear then? I guess between you giving them back and now we've been spoken about. Makes sense I think.”
“What does?”
“Steve's best friend being pissed when he told her what happened between us three. I did wonder if she knew anything beyond the rumours.” He explained, waving when Steve emerged from the kitchen.
Nancy stared, trying to understand how Robin's anger came from that, even as she smiled at Steve coming over.
“You two okay? Your move back to Hawkins going well?” Steve asked, relaxed, a ring shaped into a shield on his hand.
“We're good, are you?” Jonathan asked, but carried on without pausing for a reply, “Realised that we never apologised for everything during that Halloween. I thought you'd broken up honestly, until Dustin said you were taking flowers to Nance when he asked for help.”
“I'm good and thank you. It's all history now and I'm pretty sure there was no coming back from that argument. I'm sorry for everything bad I did back then too. Some fault on both sides, I think.” Steve hurried to accept the apology but followed Nancy's gaze when she looked back over to Robin. “And Robs will calm down soon enough. She just got the meanings of some of my rings wrong and is mad about it.”
“What meanings do they have?” Nancy asked, glancing back at the ring he currently wore. “Eddie too? He did the hand hold thing too today.”
His nose scrunched but he looked amused, “Yeah but also no. That's cause Henderson tried using Robin's ring checking as evidence I'm dating her and Eds wants to see if he'll insist the same for someone else doing it. I'm preparing for anything Robin does to me to get copied or escalated for a while.”
“You're cool with that?” Jonathan challenged, looking shocked at the thought and Nancy could remember their fight from years back, wondering if that was why.
“Robin would kill me if I wasn't. Plus it means my empty home is a lot noisier with laughter now.” Steve mused. “Yeah, I'm pretty happy about Eddie's game.” As he finished speaking his hand dipped into his back pocket, a practised gesture that seemed absent enough to be unnoticeable as his ring was swapped out while he looked around the gathering. “I'd better check the kids aren't causing trouble over there.”
There was silence between them for a moment as he headed away. “So that's the first time I've actually seen that happen.” Jonathan eventually commented.
“No wonder. If he hadn't just mentioned his ring I'd have missed it.” She agreed, wondering why Steve would hide the gesture but do it so openly. It was more evidence that she hadn't known him as well as she thought.
/\/\
Dustin was getting frustrated. He'd thought it was a blatant lie when Robin said she was checking Steve's ring each time she took his hands upon greeting. Then he'd thought maybe it was valid but still an excuse after noticing them was what started calming Eddie down in the boat-shed.
Now Eddie kept waiting behind Robin as she checked Steve's rings, draping himself over the side of him left free when they watched movies. It was getting honestly difficult to get a hold of either of them separately and Dustin didn't trust it.
“Why are you leading Eddie on?” He accused one of the few times Steve picked him up without the other already in the car.
“I'm not, but thanks, really flattering view of me you have there.” Steve huffed.
Dustin narrowed his eyes, “You're straight Steve.” He stated as if he was being dumb. “Why are you accepting his flirting when you aren't into him? Are you going to hurt him?”
Steve rolled his eyes. “One, that's not for you to question for me. Neither of us are going to get hurt. Two, Eddie checked and keeps checking we both know where we stand in this. Three, thanks for winning me that bet.”
“Bet? What bet?” He demanded but they'd pulled up in the trailer park and Eddie was already climbing in.
He'd clearly heard the question and leaned over Steve's seat, pulling his hand up to check the ring while asking, “Yeah Stevie, what bet are you telling Dustin about?”
“One I won cause he got in telling me off for leading you on.” He smirked, taking his hand back to pull off again. “Seatbelt.”
“As if I wouldn't follow you anywhere, Big boy. Keep leading.” Eddie remarked flippantly before swatting at Dustin, “But talk about clouded vision, Shithead. So when Robin does it they're dating but I do it and I'm being led on.”
Dustin spluttered for a moment, but Steve's smirk got sharper, “So that's me and Robin one each, you none. Lucas could be anyone's but I think you have a shot at Mike.”
/\/\
Robin helped Steve find it, the final ring he’d buy for himself hopefully. She’d helped with everything else in his realisations since Eddie’s game began and was trying to make him share his feelings with Eddie now.
The ring had been both Steve’s way to delay that admission and his hope that Eddie would bring the conversation up for him. If only because he had no intention of advertising the feeling it meant at all.
It should have worked too, except he was never wearing the ring when Eddie first arrived, never able to get privacy when the change was noticed by the other and didn’t see how it could change with their kids all wanting attention constantly. He almost felt like his crush was doomed to silence and Robin’s teasing over it but refused to accept it, adapting instead. He started swapping rings when even slightly feeling besotted, hearing Dustin raving over something Eddie had done or a song reminding him of the other. Steve even started practising demanding private moments and dragging Robin off during her greetings, just waiting for Eddie to question this new ring.
“Is it my turn to ask for a private chat, big boy?” Eddie asked, finally seeing Steve’s latest ring worn as he arrived.
Everyone else was filing through the house to the kitchen or Steve’s pool and barely glanced their way as Steve tugged Eddie upstairs, blush only noticed by Robin as they went.
“You like my ring then?” He asked only after they were alone. It was partly to delay the admission, but mostly a genuine question. When looking for this ring he’d specifically wanted something that reminded him of Eddie’s rings and the coiled serpent design seemed fitting.
/\/\
Eddie for the first time in a while didn’t know what to say. He wanted to ramble about how much he liked it and wanted a similar one for himself; wanted to interrogate Steve on this new ring when he’d been resolute on pairing rings up if he found an emotion missing from their meanings in the future; wanted to ask if it was a way to get his attention.
It was mostly the last of the list actually, but that felt too vulnerable to say.
“It’s metal, but why? You said you didn’t want to get any more after our shopping spree.” He asked, holding back all the words trying to tumble out.
Steve fell backwards onto his bed, heaving a sigh and making Eddie wonder if he’d asked the wrong thing. “Because a crush isn’t as simple an emotion to indicate and I didn’t want you to make similar errors to Robin if I paired it up with other rings straight away.” He muttered to the ceiling.
Hope flickered to light where it had dimmed at the sigh. “A crush? On who?” There was a guess, especially with how Dustin had been distracted from his questions the week before, but he wanted to hear it for himself.
“You.” Steve said, rolling onto his side and watching Eddie as he stood just beside the door, never having moved since they came in.
He moved now, taking the hand and brushing his thumb over Steve’s ring. “That explains why you weren’t wearing it when I wasn’t around at first, but not why you’re wearing it now.”
“Will mentioned you earlier, some of the chats you’ve had with him over Mike.” He hummed.
“Your love for those kids is cute.” Eddie grinned, kneeling on the bed beside him. “It also doesn’t say what you want to happen now. You seem plenty happy with me copying how Robs treats you but are you wanting more than that?”
Everything in Eddie was screaming to just ask for more, or lean down and kiss Steve, or do something other than gently prying more details out from the gorgeous boy rolling around on the bed.
“Maybe you could kiss me too sometimes, see how we feel about going further when my house isn’t full of everybody else.” Steve smirked up at him, as if reading the desires on his face. “Oh and invitations to either your band practices or performances. I want those too. Who knows maybe the Corroded Coffin boys could just fit in with this chaotic family of ours over time.”
“Yeah?” Eddie asked, leaning so their lips were millimetres apart. “Want to join our families? You already thinking of marriage, big boy?”
Steve leant up for a small kiss, “Forever with you sounds like torturous bliss. Where do I sign up?”
“I think you already have.” They both grinned into the deep kiss Eddie pulled him into then.
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latteandjacks · 3 days
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"They should've made an emphasis on Sallie May being trans before" "There should be things that openly indicate she's trans aside from the horns" "The merch shouldn't show her with a bulge if she's trans, logically she should hide it"
My brother in Christ shut the fuck up
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Aight, I get where most of you are coming from but let me just say that Sallie May is a big breath of fresh air from a lot of canon trans rep I've been seeing in the internet about big projects such as Helluva Boss, let's go point from point
This contains spoilers from Hell's Belles
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Sallie May is a transgender Imp, this is not something that was decided just now for the short as her first appearance in the moon harvest festival already shows her with the thick line horns (Which are exclusively from AMAB (Assigned Male at Birth) Imps
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If there's only one point these people made that I agree with is the fact that the horns thing should be something implied in the show, not specifically with the intention of outing a trans character but something simple that could give more context for those who do not check the wikis or the social medias that often
Other than that, I feel like they haven't actually meet a trans person irl because they believe that her being trans should be something that everyone should catch the first time they see her, that someone should inmeditaly point out she's trans, yet, they get upset at the fact that she's proudly showing a bulge on the merchandise They want the show to scream verbally about her being trans but not casually
You have no idea how relieved I felt when, at no point in the episode, her being trans was mentioned or outed, none pointed out her horns or voice and instead the problem was her feeling left out of her sister's life, and, again, not because she's trans and feels like Millie doesn't view her the same or some bullshit, but because Millie doesn't go home as often and felt a bit mad when she had to do her work In fact! Her not getting genitalia reconstructive surgery is also a thing that is cool about her, she got tits but didn't chop off the dick and is not insecure about it, most of times trans people are put between not getting surgery or getting ALL of the surgeries AND being extremely insecure about their genitalia, and yes, there's a lot of trans people that feel that way, but I think that aspect of her is really good representation for those that don't want to get surgery or only want to either reduce or enlarge their chest, not everyone gets dysphoria the same way and this doesn't make her less of a woman for that
Even if it's okay to have characters where one of the main issue of the comes from being trans (I have a few myself), It's also nice to see character that are trans but the main issue with their life comes from something completely different and not related
So for people upset about her passing so well you can't immediately tell she's trans Surprise! That's a lot of us want, that's what a lot trans people irl try, to just be a person of the gender we really are, to be normal and not needing to always out of ourselves, to be treated the same no matter what I make a lot of jokes about my lack of dick and my excess of tits, I only out myself as trans when formally presenting to someone and that is just because I'm not allowed to be trans so I don't pass as a boy at all and need to specify, but me being trans is something that most of my friend only bring into the conversation to make a friendly joke or when I bring it up
Sallie May is not only good representation, is one of the best I've seen in a while in the modern adult media, because she's subtle yet obvious You may not like Viv (Me too girl /non gendered), but I got to give it to her, the lgbt+ representation she does is on point
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Anyways now that I tackled down that issue is time to actually talks about this short as a whole see ya
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soaringwide · 1 day
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Pick a Card: Month Ahead #01
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This was written for May 2024 but with the intention to be timeless, so even if you find it later there might be a message for your next month.
We'll look into your energy coming into the month, but also what will be the theme/area of focus and what you'll need to pay attention to, as well as the surprises that might come your way.
It's my first time doing a pick a card like this so we'll see how it turns out! I love doing those privately though.
As always, be mindful that this is a general reading meant for multiple people so it might not be 100% fitting for your situation, and that it's based on the energy you hold at the moment of selecting a pile that draws you to one of them.
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PILE 1
Cards: Page of Cups, Queen of Wands, 9 of Cups, Ace of Swords, the Emperor, Strength, 5 of Cups, the Moon, Queen of Cups, 5 of Wands rx, Ace of Pentacles, 4 of Cups, Page of Wands
For your energy coming into the month, I see you being in a state of being in tune with your heart, opening up to the possible rise of a new romantic connection. I get the sense that you're cautiously optimistic about it, because while you feel confident within yourself and in a happy place, you're also aware that it's too early to tell. But you're not letting that deter you and you're fully embracing your own power, feeling good about yourself and where you're at while looking ahead hopefully and waiting for an opportunity to move forward. I think for you the process of the month ahead has already started a bit before the start of the new month and you're continuing the process.
When it comes to the theme of the month, I see the importance of putting your emotional fulfillment at the forefront and being actively working towards it. There is a need to bring clarity about the situation, clarity that will bring you contentment and tie loose ends. You will be determined to work through that with willpower and determination by taking the lead and stop wasting time around. I think you are seeing the path forward for this connection and you're determined to go for it and not let it escape. You got four cards here and they all represent a different element, which I interpret as the fact that harmony within and for yourself will be a big theme as well. Between your feelings, your thoughts and your actions, everything will be grounded in your authentic self.
I think these past few months have not always been great for you and you're determined to leave that behind and enter the new chapter of your life. You've learned all you had to about your old ways and now you're ready for a change. So for the goal you'll have in mind, you will be focused on not falling back into the same patterns of thoughts and behaviors and keep moving forward with determination and a sense that you can't go back to what you once where.
The challenge that will arise will come from your own psyche. I get the sense that you still have unresolved issues within yourself that may cloud this great picture, so you will have to be extra careful about not letting your fears and doubts making you spiral down and do or say something that doesn't align with your truth. You might go through times where you feel irritable or anxious and you may take that as a proof that things are going to shit again and you might want to run away, but it's an illusion. It just means that you still have some inner clutter to sort out. Be careful about not shutting yourself off from others as a reaction to your inner pain.
When it comes to a surprise coming your way, it seems there will be an event that will create a shift from a confusing and chaotic situation to one of open communication of feelings, laying out a more positive base for the future. I'm getting the sense that this is what the theme of the month was referring to, and while you seek it, you don't really know how it will unfold so it will still be a surprise when it happens. When this even happens, be as open and honest as possible in order to clear out any possible miscommunication, be kind and listen to what the other person has to say with empathy and love at heart.
What you'll have gained by the end of the month will be a stable and solid start towards the future. Things are blossoming but you'll have learned that there's no point rushing into anything and that things come when the time is right. You'll be set to build on that for the months to come. Maybe the start of a new commitment although things are in their very early stage.
As a final advice, it is important not to shut yourself off from your emotions and not to stay stuck in your old ways of remaining passive. Stay open and assertive, go after what you want and I get the strong message that you need to communicate openly about everything that isn't clear in this connection. Don't just wait around for things to fall onto your lap. Be passionate and enthusiastic and again be clear about your intentions. Also, you're learning something new and important so be gentle with yourself if you don't get everything perfectly from the get go, what matters is to do your best.
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PILE 2
Cards: King of Wands, Queen of Cups, the Lovers rx, 8 of Cups rx, Queen of Pentacles, Ace of Swords, Memento Mori, 10 of Swords, King of Pentacles, Queen of Wands, 2 of Wands, The Chariot, Knight of Pentacles, 6 of Pentacles, 3 of Cups rx, 7 of Cups
For the general vibe of this pile, it feels a bit overwhelming like there is so much to pay attention to that you are somewhat disconnected from yourself as a result, because your feelings are so confusing that you get lost in them. There are A LOT of court cards, which may mean that there is a situation that brings the intervention of a lot of different people, perhaps it will be busy at work, or something involving family, creating a very messy situation where everyone has something to say and you can't hear yourself anymore. Really there is so much external influences here that I had a hard time picking up on YOU until the end of the reading.
For the energy you have coming into the month, I really think you are in a committed relationship with someone (and if not it's not your pile), but there is a big disharmony here. It seems one of you is on the way out of the relationship (represented by the King of Wands), and the fact that the Queen of Wands shows as a challenge later in the reading, I'm getting that this person already has someone in mind. It seems you are longing for the way the relationship used to be and it feels over, but you are having difficulties moving on right now. It's also possible you're just longing for the idea of Love altogether and wishing you could drop everything you have right now to run towards it. There is a choice to be made but right now at the end of the month, you are not making a move one way or another.
The theme of the month to come for you pile 2 makes a lot of sense considering what I already wrote. You will have to focus on your own clarity and get grounded in yourself, trying to find stillness in the chaos that surrounds you in order to get the answers you need, based on your own guidance. I'm also getting that you feel resistant to change and the call of life, and that you may feel a bit dead inside and numb as a result. There is a need to find excitement for the miracle of life again which has been lost due to your complex situation. ''The meaning is in the Middle'' is what's written on the card and writing down in case it speaks to anyone.
For what you'll consciously focus on this month, I'm getting just like...trying not to break down completely and at the same time keeping up with your demanding job and practical life issues. Perhaps this impending breakup is causing financial stress and you don't know how things will turn out. So your goal will be navigating that in order to stay on top of things both mentally and professionally/financially.
Okay this is where it finally clicks because I was confused whether you where the one with the third party of the one who is perhaps cheated on. With the King of Pentacles longingly looking at the Queen of Wands (the third party I mentioned before - don't take gender into account though) standing next to him, I'm getting that YOU are wondering how to welcome this new passionate connection into your busy life and how to make it fit from a practical standpoint with your current relationship. The Queen seems to be both a challenge and an opportunity, I don't necessarily get that this Queen is a bad omen, it's just a difficult situation that require a choice on your part.
For the unexpected thing that will happen this month, I'm not getting a particular event but rather, how it will change the course of what you're doing. This surprise will force you to weight your options and start pursuing what you desire, getting out of that rut you are in. There will be progress moving forward as I don't think you'll be left indecisive for too long. There is a sense of urgency here, whether it's perceived or true, you will feel it deeply and it will push you into actions. You will be surprised by how determined you suddenly feel after the indecision of the past.
What will be gained after the month ends is a newfound stability as you'll have regained your footing. From that point in the spread it's like things have cleared up a bit and there's open space. There is a new beginning on the horizon but unlike the urgency that led you to that point, there is now the need to take things slow and build strong foundations.
The advice you got was that, well, it's time to choose what you want to do with this third party. You can't keep holding things like that without making a choice. You might also need to distance yourself from bad influences around you like friends or family and again focus on yourself. The second advice is about restoring some type of balance between giving and taking. It seems someone has or will give you something and you'll have to give something in return so that not to break the flow of the relationship.
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PILE 3
Cards: 4 of Swords rx, 8 of Pentacles, 4 of pentacles, 3 of Pentacles rx, 7 of Pentacles, 9 of Pentacles, 5 of Wands, 9 of Wands, Justice, 4 of Wands, King of Cups, the Moon, 9 of Swords, Temperance, 6 of Swords, the Fool
For your energy coming into the month, I see that you might have been feeling burnt out for a while now due to over-exhausting yourself with work or your studies, something you've put a lot of care and energy into in any case. You feel stagnant and somewhat demotivated and the whole thing is weighting on you. It's like you've put so much effort into working on this issue that you feel totally depleted emotionally. However, you can't seem to let go a bit in order to get things flowing again and you remain stuck, fearing everything is going to go to waste if you relax a bit.
The theme of this month will be to find your support system and reach out for help in order to get you to find new solutions to your issue. Not everything can be done alone. Furthermore, not every project can be rushed through all the time, sometimes you have to let it rest for a bit and let it grow under the surface of the soil. You will find great benefit from focusing on your own enjoyment and pleasure for a change in order to find a new perspective on your situation.
Despite that, it seems your mind will still be set on proving yourself this month. It's like, you feel burnt out and stagnant, and instead of getting the cue that you need to slow down a bit, you look at others and wonder why you can't hustle like them. Basically you're sensing there is an issue but you're trying to solve it in a toxic way by comparing yourself to others and feeling threatened by their success, triggering your self esteem issues.
The challenged you will have to face have to do with accepting to restore the balance in your life and take a break to have a bit of fun. Sounds like a false problem but it seems it's quite difficult for you to do at the moment because you're so focused on your tasks. It's a critical point though because if you don't cut off the toxic behaviors that are burying you into the ground, you will face the repercussions of your own non-action further down the line. You might have a hard time socializing because your heart is not there and you might feel left out, even though it would do you good to get a change of scenery and get out of your cave for a while.
For the unexpected thing that will happen this month, this will have to do with some type of emotional reconnection that will lead to more balance. It's very possible that it'll be uncomfortable at first as all the negative feelings you've been pushing under the rug all this time are resurfacing, but if you manage to stay afloat you will find a greater sense of mastery over them. I'm not getting anything precise as to what's gonna happen, but it will have to do with you being forced to take the blindfolds off and finally pay attention to your mental health. This might be the inner crisis you need to get back in a better shape.
What will have been gained by the end of the month has to do with leaving behind this way of doing and thinking you were holding onto at the beginning of the month. You will finally be able to get moving again, even if it will feel somewhat bitter and hard to do, remember it's for the better because you could not keep going on like you did.
The advice for you to help you navigate things is to not take everything so seriously all the time. Don't focus too much on what's not working or what you could do better or even on what you can't control, but try to find hope and the sense that a new beginning is at hand if only you open yourself up to it. Whoever is sending you this advice really encourages you to enjoy the little things and find your youthful spirit again. Things won't stay bleak forever so the best thing you can do is let yourself move along the stream.
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codtrashsammy · 12 hours
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oh no i'm having more soft Ghoap thoughts
okokko this is more of a little ficlet thing but it makes my lil heart happy so enjoy <3
also y'all i do not be editing these. at all. I just be throwin shit down on paper and making my brain produce dopamine.
if you all have any requests though pls feel free to drop into my ask box <3 I will gladly write whatever. I'm sure i'll come up with rules eventually, but rn I'm pretty open-minded and can't think of much I would refuse <3
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You're waltzing around your apartment, half asleep but with a tired smile on your face. Johnny comes back today, after all, and of course that means Simon will be coming too! You've been dating Johnny exclusively for a few months now. Sure, sometimes Simon will hold your hand, or pull you in for a hug. And sure, sometimes Simon sits with you in the early mornings on the balcony while you drink a warm drink, and he smokes a cigarette- looking at you with rapt attention and soft eyes, hanging onto every word you say. Okay, and maybe he calls you 'love' and 'darling' but he's British, so it's probably normal. But it's entirely platonic- you're at least 78% sure, and plus only Johnny had asked you out- so you have to stay loyal to him even if you do feel something for the bigger brute.
But! You need to get your ass into gear and make your boys- boy something to eat- knowing damn well they- he will be hungry when they- ah fuck it. You're going to cook them a good ass meal to enjoy- knowing they will enjoy it after a month of MRE's and shitty mess hall food (Johnny's words). So you do. You work away in the kitchen- though the clock reads barely past 2AM, knowing they should arrive around 3AM at this point. You've timed it perfectly, so by the time you set everything out on the kitchen island, still steaming and hot, you hear the familiar playful rapt at your door.
ba ba baba ba
With a grin you glance over the selection of food first- mashed potatoes, green beans, fried pork chops, and freshly made black tea- you make your way over to the door and open it with a grin. "'m glad you're back!" You bout out happily, sending both men a bright grin despite your slightly tired eyes along with theirs. "Missed ye, bonnie," Johnny is quick to just waltz right on in, arms wrapping around you and lifting you up slightly with one hand, his other hand occupied carrying his duffel bag.
A snort of amusement leaves your lips as you hug him back, pressing a kiss to his lips before batting at him to put you down- though he doesn't hesitate once he notices the smell in the house. "Oooh, what's this, bonnie?" Johnny hums out, dropping his bag somewhere in the living room as he makes his way to the kitchen.
A soft laugh leaves your lips at his reaction, but you don't bother to answer him as you turn your attention to Simon, whose closing the door behind him. He's wearing his usual little black medical mask- the one he wears in place of the balaclava when he's off duty.
So imagine your utter shock and dumb fuck surprise when he pulls the thing down, steps forward, places a gentle hand on your cheek and kisses you. "Missed ya, too, love," Simon quips easily, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear before simply dropping his bag and just walking right into the kitchen.
Sir, I'm sorry, what the fuck was that?! It's a thought, no words leave your lips as your cheeks heat up.
Oh no, you just cheated on your boyfriend- in the same house with him- with his best friend.
WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU DO NOW?!
Apparently, nothing but walk into the kitchen with your boys, watching as the two of them are already seated with stacked plates in front of them. You blink blankly at the scene.
You hesitate before taking a seat, sitting across from Johnny and resting your hands on the table, looking between the two of them as they converse casually.
"Take such good care o' us, bonnie, dunnae ken what I did to deserve ya," Johnny quips, looking at you with bright blue eyes and a genuinely content smile on his face between shoveling bites of food.
"Stopped bein' a bloody prick fer more than two seconds," Simon says, voice low and monotone yet somehow tinged with amusement.
You blink again. Huh "You kissed me?" You say it as a statement, but it comes out as a question as you look at Simon, ignoring their banter even though it makes you want to snort in amusement. You're too dumbfounded and bewildered right now to handle this situation. "Uh huh." Simon responds, flatly, like it's the most obvious thing in the world as he takes a bite of mashed potatoes. Johnny looks between the two of you, a slow smirk pulling at his lips, "LT, you sly dog," Johnny murmurs with clear amusement, elbowing the bigger man in the side playfully. You sputter for a moment, looking back over at Johnny, "A-and you're just- okay with that?!" You ask in utter confusion, bewildered but not exactly disappointed at the scene.
So you didn't cheat on your boyfriend with his best friend? Johnny looks at you and this time he blinks in confusion before turning his head and grabbing Simon's jaw, pulling him close and planting a kiss on Simon's lips, causing Simon to grunt in annoyance- only because he was still eating.
Johnny turns back to you with a shrug, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. "Even?" You stare at the scene with heated cheeks before throwing your hands up in defeat, "...Even." You relent with a huff. ....can't cheat on your boyfriend with your other boyfriend who is also your boyfriends boyfriend you suppose.
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gglitch1dd · 10 hours
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I have a few problems with you.
First of all, your deku work is nice and everything, but honestly you seem like some anti-feminist in sheep's clothing. Why can't reader ever be strong? Why can't they be a hero or fight back or stand at the same pedestal as Deku? It's always reader being this weak little submissive wife that makes him food and gives him babies.
Also I hate that you constantly shit on Katsuki and Ochaco. It's weird. Just say you don't like her because she's the main female protagonist of the show.
And also, maybe you're just some conservative weirdo, but why don't you ever use he/him reader or use trans readers? Or be a bit more inclusive?
Wow. Okay. That's quite something. I've been avoiding answering this but let me try.
Hey Anon, first of all, I pray that God gives you peace in your heart. I don't know who hurt you because it wasn't me, but I hope you know that you don't have to be so offended with the things I write. You don't like it? Swipe left. If it isn't your tea? Go back. If you aren't seeing what you want to be seeing, find another author.
Let me comment on what you said first. Bold of you to say that because reader (that is married to Izuku) isn't a hero and is a housewife, that she is weak. She's not. She's strong. What's wrong with being feminine or being a housewife and being happy that way? I personally like reading stories with such a more domestic reader (as I myself don't like the idea of working for the rest of my life and actually prefer being at home), and I filled in the gap where other people weren't writing for that.
Reader doesn't just keep quiet and pop out babies. She's a strong woman with a good husband that's willing to be good for her and she's a strong mother too. If you think all a stay at home mom does is pop out babies and praise her husband, you're mistaken.
I've already explained my deal with Katsuki and Ochaco, I'm not going to explain it again.
Finally, if you're offended by my writing, don't read it. Simple. Ignore it. Not everyone has to cater for everything the else I'd be here for a long time. I don't hate other types of readers, and I wish I could write for them. I can't. I include them in other ways through characters close to the reader in the story. I'm being inclusive. Katsuki being AFAB but using he/him pronouns in 'A Wishful Time' is me being inclusive. Mina being black in non-quirk aus and Sero being Latino is me being inclusive.
It's a shame you don't like my work but that's okay👍🏿 I hope you find an author that caters to your tastes more.
-Glitch1d
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pandoraslxna · 1 day
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📝 neteyam + human reader with an age gap!!
Olo’eyktan Neteyam x female human reader, minors dni 🔞
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The olo’eyktan has long suspected, the clothes of his people would suit you well.
You’re a vision bought to him by eywa herself when you emerge from the other room. Such a young, naive thing, with the most fetching, delicate blush creeping across your cheeks. There's so much to take in, Neteyam thinks his eyes might pop out of his head.
Those smooth, young, perfect legs peeking out from under the tiny little loincloth make him swallow the salvia that’s pooling in his mouth, but the sight of your barely covered chest is even better. Just a few feathers, woven together like a necklace, are covering your firm breasts and Neteyam has to hold back to reach out and touch them, hold them in his palm.
"You’re staring," you mumble quietly, biting a perfectly plump lower lip. "This is so embarrassing…" Great mother, you’re too precious.
"You look perfect, like a beautiful little doll," he assures you and your brows furrow, wondering how he would know what a doll even looks like. "Better than any na’vi woman."
You can’t help but snort and roll your eyes at that, because you know it’s not true.
"Now now," he says with a chuckle, "Aren't you being a little ungrateful? You shouldn’t roll your eyes at your olo’eyktan. Especially not, after you’ve just received a gift."
Neteyam tips your chin up with a finger and you feel yourself crumbling under the intense gaze of his golden orbs. "S-Sorry", you manage to force out. "Sorry, sir", you add quickly.
"I'm offended," Neteyam sighs, but the fainted smile is gazing his lips, telling you, that is is all part of the game. "You'd better make it up to me, little tawtute [human]."
And what a perfect little doll you make, surely, when you get down onto your knees and, oh great mother, he's already half-stacked just from the blush in your cheeks and those big doe eyes staring up at him. There's hesitance right before you gives kittenish licks over his rapidly stiffening cock. Neteyam groans, lays it all out over those wonderful soft lips.
"Sir, I, what if… what if I make them dirty?" You stammer, glancing down at the neatlywoven fabric of your loincloth, specifically made to fit your much smaller physique.
"Then you'd better not spill any, paskalin [honey]," he purrs, mapping the outline of your lips with his smooth tip.
And then he pushes forward, urging you to open your mouth and start to suck. What a perfect little angel in those perfect little clothes, he thinks with a grin. You do your very best not to choke on his cock, but it’s especially hard given the difference in size between the both of you. His tip is already in your throat, but he’s not even halfway inside you yet.
Still, you’re genuinely concerned about spoiling his gift, and so, when Neteyam releases (quickly, too fucking quickly when his young tawtute toy was working her magic like that), you swallow it with the most adorable little gulping sound.
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nanamisdickrider · 8 hours
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Wrapped around my finger!
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Pairing: Sub!Gojo x Dom!reader
"Satoru, what are these?" you ask your boyfriend, looking down at the box that he just handed you. A blindfold with a pastel pink shade and handcuffs that are white. And a.... pink dildo? You were confused because you never thought he would be into this. “What do you think these are?” you looked up at him and his face was bright red and he bit his lip so hard it looked painful. You didn't expect this from him, but it's not something you have a problem with.
“So should I...” he looked at you and immediately looked away, playing with the rings on his finger. “...go to bed now?” you were almost about to laugh at his face because of how submissive he was acting. You nodded your head and as soon as he got the approval he was on his way to the bedroom.
On the other hand. For about 10-15 minutes, you struggled to tighten the belt on the strap-on around your waist. Finally you decided to go to the store and have him tighten it around your ass. But when you walked into the bedroom, you saw him lying down on the soft bed, all naked with his thighs and ass lubricated. He was well-prepared. When his eyes landed on yours, he sat up immediately. “Satoru...I have a little bit of a problem, can you help tighten this belt baby?” he was nodding like a puppy, you stood infront of him and he worked on the belt. Hooking it and tightening it perfectly around your back. The dildo hit his cheek as you turned around. You grasped his hair 'Suck.'
Gojo swirled his tongue around the tip of the dildo and his fingers stroked around the base. He was maintaining his eye contact with you when he pushed the dildo further in his mouth and the tip was hitting his throat. Choking around your base as his free hand went to your thigh and squeezed it. Small tears were forming in the corner of his eyes. He bobbed his head around your cock, pulling away completely a few times to spit on the dildo and make it wetter.
You pulled his hair back and pushed him gently onto the bed. “Awh, you already prepared your little hole love? Always so eager for me no?” you climbed onto the bed and got between his legs, pushing his legs so back that his knees hit his cheeks. His ass was full on display for you. His hole was wet and clenching around nothing. You giggled and placed the dildo on his hole. Teasing him by pushing it in a little and pulling it out immediately. “Babyy..just put it in please!! I've stretched myself enough for your cock please please!!” you could tell that he was desperate. And since he was asking so nicely, you couldn't really say no.
You gave in and pushed in the dildo. His toes started curling when you were only halfway in “T-There’s more?!” he shot his eyes open and looked down to see where y'all were connected. His head was thrown back when you were fully in. His eyes rolled back as he let out broken moans and screams. “Move...pl–ease!” Gojo says. “such an impatient slut for me.”
That was the last thing you've said before thrusting in him at a brutal pace. His head was hitting on the headboard. You pulled him by legs because you were worried he might have a headache later for the hits on his head. His hands came to his ass and tried to spread it more for you, all while he was drooling and his eyes were in the back of his head. You leaned in towards his face, pushing in your cock deeper in him. You kissed his tears and forehead. “Mmph! You're so..so deep in me..I can—feel it all!..” he was seeing stars for sure. You twisted Gojo's nipples and he instantly arched his back off of the bed. Moaning out loudly. You knew his nipples were sensitive and that's why you leaned down and bit on them. “Baby! I'm s–sensitive down there be gentle pleas-AH!” you cut him off by pulling out the dildo completely just to slam it back in. You angled your hips in many ways until you found that soft gummy spot inside him. You moved your hips to the right and he almost screamed. His hands trying to push your hips away. That's how you know you found it. “Dont push me away Satoru. You're the one who wanted this right? Now take it all in and be a good boy for me.”
You were thrusting in your cock in that same spot continuously. His hands were roaming around trying to hold onto something, fingers digging into the sheets. He was close. You pushed his hips down onto the bed and fucked him with the dildo faster. “mmh–Aah! ‘m I'm closee..so so close..” he whimpered and even though you were pushing him down into the sheets. He still arched his back when the orgasm hit him. Warm ropes of cum shooting from his tip. Covering his chest and your waist with the sticky liquid. You slowly thrusted in until he was done.
You pulled out and sat down. Looking at him as he catches his breath and rubs the tears away from his eyes.
“Dont think that we're done here, you're forgetting about the blindfold and the handcuffs. One more round with those my sweet boy ♡”
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the purpose of this post is for me to figure some stuff out so i'm open to feedback and discussion
disclaimer: i love Halsin, he's my precious bear man
but damn i am pissed
i started to really dig into the epilogue, specifically that last morning after the brain goodbye scene in the room at the inn where he says he has nine wagons of kids and he will aid the people in Thaniel's realm
sadly i can't find any footage of what he says when Tav goes "oh a community built with your own hands, i'd love to see that" (or something to that extent) bc i think that is the one option that nullifies the goodbye and i think? he just asks if Tav is sure and then happy end bells
but even so
the interaction practically starts with "why does this sound like you're saying goodbye?" - oh that's because he is. at least for now. but Tav can visit, he's very eager for them to visit - and then narrator is like a tenday later Tav went to the commune and then the party invite stuff, not important
and I'm like....
it just hit me how - yes, Halsin has abandonment issues and he wants to help those orphans and all the homeless refugees and all the great stuff but like…… HOW DARE YOU DECIDE FOR ME THAT I DON'T WANNA GO WITH YOU????
watching that on a loop three times seriously hit me hard and i don't like it (as in me, personally, not in the sense that it's bad writing or it makes no sense for him to do that, maybe it does - if somebody can help me wrap my head around that, I would be super grateful bc atm I'm stuck in my own emotional reaction to Halsin making decisions for me)
in my head Tav's response to that should be: fuck you, i don't want to visit - fuck that! i wanna go with you and move in with you bc I love you but i guess you don't really want that huh? oh you do? then I guess we are at an impasse, huh?
bottom line is - what do I want to do with it in my fic?
i could ignore it bc i kinda wanna, i don't want them fighting like that
on the other hand it would be great to have this devolve into a conflict, bc i already sprinkled a few tiny bits of them saying not the best things but then the other kinda steps past it or around it and they are fine, but it would add some realism for them to have a serious disagreement about their (joint) future and about communicating and making decisions and could be something to be revisited as a work in progress for them to grow into as their relationship keeps going
i don't mind exploring difficult shit in my fics, i already decided to commit and give Tav my trauma and it was very cathartic just drafting that bit, and this turning into a conflict could play into that I suppose, could work really well
I guess my problem is the dissonance between Halsin doing that unintentionally bc of his own issues and him generally being very considerate and respectful of others, especially Tav imo, he was perfectly happy to follow their decisions as a leader but now I guess they are no longer the leader and this is his thing, his commune, his new purpose in life and ofc he could never be selfishly happy when he could be doing good things for strangers but like.... i can't grasp that step how from that he goes into "therefore I shall not offer this as a choice for them but instead make that a foregone conclusion that this is goodbye, at least for now" - is it bc asking means risk of rejection and he'd rather reject himself to spare them both the interaction?
sorry this got rambly XD but anyway - thoughts?
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Hi so I’m 15 and in a relationship for the first time so I don’t have experience with any of this stuff. My partner and I have been doing sexual stuff for a few months now I just have some questions.
First, I was wondering how we can do sexual things in a way that doesn’t bother other people in the house. Like maybe that’s a dumb question and the answer is just be quiet but idk it’s hard bc my partner is very vocal. Also there’s very few opportunities to do stuff without anyone else home so that’s not rly an option.
Also my parents have been very weird about my relationship with my partner. Making lots of odd comments such as “i wonder if they’re having sex up there” (to my brother who is a *child*) and giving me lots of looks that just kind of make me feel really bad about my relationship. I know that sex is natural but they make me feel really bad about it and I could use some advice on what to do about that
Next, my partner and I are both interested in getting in to kink but I don’t really know how to go about it. I’ve never heard of people getting into that stuff as minors and we don’t want to do anything too crazy especially since we don’t really have access to any supplies.
You’ve definitely talked about this before but could you tell me what kind of protection is best and easiest to use and obtain for f/f sex. School didn’t teach me how to use anything other than a male condom.
Thank you so much. Sorry for asking so many questions
hi anon,
your first question is going to be pretty circumstantial; I don't know what the layout of your house is like or how realistic it is to wait for privacy. the ideal if of course to wait until everyone else is either asleep or out of the house, but I recognize that the former may be difficult if not impossible for someone your age and you've already said the latter is hard to come by. using other noises, like music or TV or white noise, can be helpful, although it's unlikely to prevent your parents from speculating.
to address your second problem most directly, I'm afraid there's no much that I personally can do to rectify that. it is unfortunately very normal for parents to have an anxious, awkward, and difficult time adjusting to their children becoming sexually curious. I think the most crucial thing to remember here is that this has nothing to do with what you're doing being gross or wrong, and most everything to do with how your parents were raised to think about sex. unless they have specific concerns they want to raise with you about sexual safety, their reactions are most likely coming from a place of discomfort that they don't know how to channel appropriately. that's not a shortcoming on your part, but on the people who failed to help them develop a better way of understanding their own feelings about sex - and, yes, on them for how they're handling those feelings now.
I'm unsure exactly what you're interested in exploring, since kink covers a very broad array of activities and "supplies" could mean almost anything, but I would definitely recommend an abundance of caution in your explorations. kink is great, but that doesn't mean it's easy for for everyone. there's a reason that you seldom hear of people your age getting into kink, which is that it generally requires a great deal of practice with navigating partnered intimacy and communication - something that few teenagers have had time to develop the skills for. kink is also something that many people find works best as a communal activity, by finding others to help introduce them around and sharing experience to help safely explore their fantasies; for obvious safety reasons, few kink spaces are looking to admit 15 year olds. by all means, do your research - Evie Lupine's youtube channel is a great place to start, with a backlog of hundreds of videos covering all kinds of kink-related topics - but be careful with how you act on it, and recognize that kink comes with more potential complications and risks than "vanilla" sex that cannot be taken lightly.
if both parties have vulvas and vaginas then you can use dental dams for protection during oral sex, latex or nitrile gloves or finger cots to cover hands/fingers, and external ("male," although there's nothing inherently gendered about them) condoms for any penetrative toys (or cut them down one side to flatten them out and make the aforementioned dental dams).
please don't apologize for asking questions! questions are how you learn and stay safe :)
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annwrites · 21 hours
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exactly what he needs, pt. 2 ♡ ⋆。˚ | pt 1
— pairing: nate jacobs x fem!reader
— type: ficlet (multi-chapter)
— summary: you & nate hang out in your room (after he snoops through it right in front of you), then ask each other questions, & he dresses & does your hair before you head out to spend the evening together.
— tags: conversing, getting to know one another
— tw: sexualization, lying (nate manipulating the truth), dollification
— word count: 6.2k
— a/n: I edited this numerous times, but fucked myself over by writing part 1 in present-tense to begin with, which I'm not always great at. So, if I messed up the tenses anywhere, please ignore it. Going forward, I'll probably be publishing further installments in past-tense.
Next post will be reader & Nate going shopping & having dinner!
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The next morning when you wake, it only takes a few minutes for you to remember that Nate will be there in a little less than an hour, and the nerves immediately set in.
Surely people will see you getting out of his truck. What will they think?
You shake your head. It doesn't matter. Not really, anyway. You don't much care what any one person of the student population thinks of you.
You know high school is just a blip—a very brief moment in time, where it seems like every little thing you experience can be the end of the world, but it's really all just the beginning.
People will think whatever they like. It's not your job to try and change their minds. Not that trying to do as much would work anyway.
Once you've quickly showered, dressed, pulled your hair into a high ponytail to keep it out of your way, and eaten breakfast, you don't even have time to wait by the door as Nate's truck pulls up. You quickly pull on a pair of boots and step outside, locking the door behind you.
When you look up, your stomach does a flip when you see Nate holding the passenger-side door open for you.
You walk over to him. "You don't have to get my door for me, you know."
He shrugs, taking your backpack from you, setting it in the backseat with his. "I want to."
You tell him thank you as you climb inside and he shuts the door behind you.
Once you're on the road, he's the first to break the silence. "You can listen to whatever you want on the radio."
In truth, it's a bit too early for music for you. "I'm ok."
"Did you eat already?"
You nod. "I had a bowl of cereal."
He gives a slight frown. Not a very healthy start to your day. Something full of sugar.
"Do you want me to pick you up something on the way?"
Your eyes go wide. "Oh, no, I'm fine. Thank you, though. It's nice of you to offer."
He decides tomorrow he's bringing you breakfast, and he won't be asking for permission beforehand.
You're both silent again for a moment and the truck slows as he pulls up to a red light. He briefly wonders if you know how to drive. If not, he'd be a more than willing teacher.
"If you don't mind, I'd like to ask you something personal. If you do, just tell me to fuck off and you don't have to answer."
You look at him. "Ok..."
The light turns green and the truck picks up speed again. "I noticed neither of your parents were home yesterday. Were they both at work?"
You grow quiet for a moment, a pregnant pause settling between the two of you as you look out the window at the passing houses.
"My dad was...is. He travels a lot for work, so he's not home much."
He nods, deeming it good news, at least for him. "And your mom?"
You're quiet for even longer this time. Then, "I've never met her."
Minus Lexi, you've already divulged more to him in that short sentence than you have to anyone else at East Highland.
"I'm sorry to hear that." He's not sure that he means it. He despises both of his parents and, if anything, in this moment, is envious of you, due to your lack of relationship with both of yours.
You shrug. "It's fine."
He wants more than just 'it's fine'. He wants to know more, as it's clear it's something which bothers you. He wants you to give him emotional vulnerability for just a moment. Something he can use in the future to work his way in closer to you.
"Do you know anything about her?"
You shake your head. "My dad refuses to talk about her. After a few fights when I was younger where I tried to get him to, I gave up. It's probably for the best. She made her choice, and I think me knowing anything about her would just make things...more difficult. My life, I mean."
Even if you still felt like you were chasing shadows sometimes.
He nods. If nothing else, it's one less person he'll have to go through to be with you. Two less, from the sound of things.
Finally, he turns into the school parking lot, taking his usual spot and he shuts the truck off.
"I'll get your door for you," he states before getting out.
You unbuckle yourself, not sure what to think of his insistence with the whole door thing. It just doesn't seem to be something men much concern themselves with anymore—getting a girl's door for her—at least not teenage boys, that is. But perhaps he's different. Maybe it's just the way he was raised.
Nate opens your door and grabs his backpack, sliding it over his shoulders, then grabbing yours as well.
You get out and go to take it from him, but he continues holding it.
"Turn around."
Your brows furrow for a moment, but do as he's asked. You quickly realize what he's doing and adjust your arms as he slides your bag onto your back. He's really going the extra mile to be a gentleman, you think.
Once the truck's doors are closed and he's locked the vehicle, he places his hand against the small of your back as you walk into school together.
You look perfectly calm on the outside, but on the inside, your anxiety levels are rising with each pair of eyes turning your and Nate's way.
When you spot Lexi, the look on her face is nothing short of bewildered. Next to her sits Cassie, who's fuming.
You're torn away from looking in their direction by Nate coming to stand in front of you. "See you in third period."
You nod and give him a small smile, going to sit with Lexi, despite Cassie giving you that same glare from yesterday. A worse one, really.
"What the hell was that?" Lexi asks, her tone full of concern as you sit down beside her, setting your bag on the table.
"Nothing. He just drove me to school, that's all."
"And home," Cassie says, voice full of malice.
Lexi looks from her sister, then back to you. "The two of you are not hooking up."
You flush. "No. He just gave me a ride, that's all."
"Ok, but why would he do that? The two of you never talk. You're not even friends."
You do your best to ignore Cassie's unsettling stare.
"I'm just—" You immediately shut your mouth. You should've thought further ahead, should've thought about what excuse you would give people when they inevitably ask why the two of you are hanging out all of a sudden.
Nate asked you to keep it a secret and you aren't about to betray his confidence. If you do, you're sure he'll fail and never bother asking for help again.
"Just what?" Lexi prods.
"We're just hanging out. It's not a big deal. I promise."
Suddenly, Cassie stands, angrily grabbing her bag, jerking it off the table and storming away.
Lexi rolls her eyes. "Just ignore her. I don't know why she's still hung up on him, anyway. He treated her like crap." She shifts in her seat, facing fully toward you now. "What I can believe even less, however, is the fact you're giving him the time of day. He's an asshole. He was abusive toward Maddy and wanted to keep screwing Cassie so long as she kept it a secret. He uses people, Y/N."
Abusive? You knew he and Maddy had argued quite a bit, but nothing that severe.
"What do you mean by abusive?"
She shrugs. "I don't know much, since she and Cassie obviously aren't friends anymore. But I know a good portion of it, at least, was emotional. Maybe verbal, too. Then again, I don't think she was any better." Lexi glances behind you, and you don't dare turn around, now worried the subject of your conversation is who she's looking at. "She gives as good as she gets."
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Once the school day is over and you go to drop off your books at your locker, you find Nate leaning up against it.
He smiles when he sees you and you give him a shy smile in return.
You put your things away, then look to Nate.
In truth, what Lexi told you had gotten to you a bit. You try to tell yourself that it's all nothing more than hearsay, and you're only tutoring—not dating him—so whatever had occurred between he and Maddy and Cassie is none of your concern.
"You ready?"
You nod, and, just like this morning, he places his hand firmly against your back.
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Once you're in his truck, you notice Maddy staring at you today, just a few cars away. She and Kat are both looking in your direction, Maddy clearly getting worked up and Kat obviously trying to calm her down, and your eyes widen when she begins heading in Nate's direction.
Before she can reach him, however, he gets in the truck and pulls out of the lot, leaving her standing there, staring after the two of you.
You're glad whatever was about to happen has just been avoided.
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Over the next week, you and Nate go to your house every day after school to study. You gradually get to know more about one another, like you learning he has a brother—which you'd somehow managed to forget over the years—and he tells you how passionate he is about personal fitness, something to which you don't much relate.
It'd been abundantly clear since day one that he dislikes his father. But that dislike—even if he talks about him very little—clearly, somewhere along the way, became loathing. It's all in the tone he uses, the language he uses when he's brought up.
But the thing that always seems to calm him—make him happier—is talking about you.
He asks you every question in the book: favorite food, color, flower, song, type of music, art, what you want to be when you graduate, the kind of house you want to live in. The list is endless.
And then the day came when he asked to see your room, with you standing awkwardly in the doorway as he surveys every inch.
He starts with your bed, your fluffy white comforter with small pink flowers printed across it, and your plethora of pillows. And then he notices the small brown teddy bear leaned back against said pillows. He briefly picks it up, smirking to himself, then looking at you.
“Do you sleep with this?”
Your face goes blood-red. “Y-yes.”
He studies it for a moment longer, making a mental note to one day buy you one himself, wanting you to sleep with one that’s come from him instead.
In truth, while you think about you sleeping with a stuffed animal as embarrassing—at least for another person to now know about—it’s a major fucking turn-on for him. You’re that innocent that you still sleep with a teddy.
He sets it back down, throwing a “that’s very sweet” your way before moving on to your bookshelves.
Not that he’s read or heard of the grand majority of the novels you have, he can tell by the titles and covers alone that they’re all either romance or fantasy. He supposes he understands that: you trying to escape through stories. Stories where you can go somewhere else, be someone else. Have a new family, new friends.
And then he thinks it incredibly sad—just how lonely you are.
It’s not like he isn’t already aware of it, because he is—has became more and more so as the last week has gone on. Everyday he’s come to your house it’s been empty. But to see your shelves crammed full of books—your one attempt at escaping into a better life—he vows in that moment to start working faster at bringing the two of you together into a relationship.
You need him.
You like stories about princesses trapped in towers and white knights coming to save them? Then that’s exactly what he’ll be for you. He’ll rescue you from the lonely hell you’re living in and give himself to you fully. He’ll dedicate all of his time that he can to you. And he plans to spoil you fucking rotten.
He looks over the various trinkets you have set on—and on top of—those shame shelves. Porcelain figurines of unicorns and cats, a small jeweled crown, some candles and a few faux plants.
He turns back to you. “Which one is your favorite?”
You shift nervously from one foot to the other. “The Lord of the Rings, actually. I…I really like Éowyn and Faramir’s story.”
He nods.
He’s never watched the movies, and has obviously never read the book, so he makes a mental note to at least do some reading on the characters you’ve mentioned to understand you better.
He then looks over your entertainment center and the small collection of DVDs you have alphabetically organized in one of the cubbies. Beauty and the Beast, Ever After, Stardust, The Last Unicorn, The Princess Bride, among a few others.
He then steps over to your closet and pulls the doors open without even asking your permission first.
You don’t much react to him doing so, supposing that everything in there you’ve worn to school at some point anyway.
He’s met with skirts and sweaters and dress blouses. Another thing he’s going to have to change—your wardrobe. It isn’t exactly “frumpy”, but it isn’t feminine enough for his taste, either. He wants your clothes to reflect who you truly are. Sun and baby doll dresses, and tennis skirts with the right pretty tops will suit you far better. Sandals and delicate flats. Your hair curled and actually down for once, perhaps with a bow in it. And he’ll buy you a few nice pieces of expensive jewelry as well. Maybe take you on a shopping trip to Tiffany one day.
He closes the doors in front of him.
What he really wants is to go through not just your bedside table, but also the top drawers of your dresser. He's curious if you've ventured into the territory of lingerie and sex-toys yet. And if so, what your preferences are.
He doesn't like to imagine you using more than a vibrator on your clit to get yourself to orgasm. As for lingerie, he doubts that you own any, but he often pictures you in lacy panties and pastel teddy nightgowns.
He adds such things to his mental shopping list of things to one day buy you.
Speaking of orgasms, however, he'd come thinking of you nearly every night for the past week.
He imagined you on his bed, naked, your pussy soaked for him, your legs spread wide as he teased you until you were begging for him to put himself inside of you.
He imagined all the things he'd teach you in bed, sure that you're inexperienced.
And only after you promised him that you're his—belonged to him and wanted no one and nothing else but him—did he finally join your two bodies together.
Finally, he sits on the edge of your bed. He then glances to the chair which hangs from the ceiling in the back left corner of your room, directly facing where he now sits.
You walk over, sitting in it.
He then lays back on your bed, feet still planted firmly on the floor, arms folded behind his head—God, he’s so tall.
“Do you not get lonely here?” He asks, turning his head to look at you.
You lift one of your socked-feet onto the chair, wrapping your arms around your bent knee. You shrug.
He shakes his head. “Don’t do that.”
Your brows furrow. “Do what?”
“Act like you being left alone all the time doesn’t matter. It matters; you matter.”
You remain quiet. Then, “I’m used to it. I like being alone.”
He refuses to believe that, knows it’s bullshit.
You’d only spent a week together, and only a little over an hour every day at that, but it’d not taken but a couple of days for you to—at times—talk his ear off. At one point, it’d nearly gotten on his last nerve, until his stomach dropped and heart broke when he realized why: how fucking long had it been since you’d had someone—anyone—to really talk to? Someone who bothered to truly listen? How long had you stayed silent, withdrawing further and further into yourself, until you’d built up an entire fantasy world within your mind and soul, which became your new reality?
And so he promised to himself—and mentally to you—that he’d never, even if it were true—tell you he doesn’t care what you have to say. He won’t be just one more person to hurt and let you down. Just like he knows you won’t be as much to him.
You’re good for him. He could tell as much from the first day he spoke to you.
He stares at you for a moment, making you squirm. “I don’t believe that.”
“Ok.” You don’t particularly feel like arguing. He can believe whatever he wishes.
He frowns. He dislikes that you don’t seem to much care what his opinion of you is. He supposes it’s a strange dichotomy. Going from Cassie who, it was all she cared about, to you, who clearly can’t care less.
“You’re really telling me that talking to barely anyone at school, except occasionally Lexi, and being alone in this house all the time doesn’t ever get to you?”
You shrug. “It’s just what I’m used to.”
In all the talking to him you’d done over the past week, all of it had been surface-level. About history or the new book you were reading, or something you’d read in a news article. None of it was actually truly about you.
If his plan to get in deeper with you—to know you like no other person on the planet does—is going to work, then you need to give him more.
“What if it wasn’t?”
“What do you mean?”
He shrugs, looking up to the ceiling. “What if we started hanging out more often than just when we study after school? We could text or something, too.”
You appreciate his being concerned for you, you think it really kind of him. Even if makes you the least bit uncomfortable. You tell yourself it’s simply because it’s something you’re not used to: someone showing genuine concern for you.
“I don’t want to be a burden.”
He looks at you again. “You wouldn’t be. I like spending time with you.”
You’re not sure how to respond, so you just say thanks.
“I feel like for the last week I’ve done nothing but ask you questions about yourself. Is there anything you want to know about me?”
He’ll never admit it, but your lack of interest in him hurts his feelings. It makes him feel like you aren’t nearly as attracted to him as he is to you.
“I just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
He smirks. So that’s why. Always so fucking considerate; his sweet girl.
“You won’t.”
You think for a moment. The things you really want to ask him about are too personal this early on (even if you’d told yourself such things were none of your business, you can’t help wanting answers). Like why he despises his dad so much, and what happened with him and Maddy and Cassie. And what happened at that New Year’s party which landed him in the hospital?
You start smaller. “What made you want to play football?”
He considers giving you some bullshit answer—which will seem a plausible enough explanation—and giving you the actual truth. Finally, he decides on both. “It gives me something to do, for one. A reason to push myself harder. It gives me something to focus on. And football is a contact sport. So when I’m pissed off, I finally have something to take it out on.”
“Like when you’re angry with your dad?”
He grows silent.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-”
He shakes his head. “It’s ok. It’s not like I’ve exactly been subtle about my dislike of him.”
He doesn’t elaborate further than that.
“So…what’s your favorite color?”
He laughs. “I don’t know. Black, I guess.”
Somehow it seems fitting for him.
He looks at you, able to read you. “But that’s not the kind of question you want to be asking, is it?”
“I don’t want to overstep boundaries.”
He leans up on one elbow. “Then how about we make it fair? You ask me one actually personal question, and then I ask you one. And we both have to answer. No matter what. As soon as one of us refuses to, I head home.”
You think about it for a moment, worried about the sorts of things he may ask, but you have an out. “Deal.”
He smiles. “Alright, ladies first.”
“Will you tell me what happened during New Year’s?”
He sits up fully then. “Fezco smashed a bottle over my head, then beat me within an inch of my life. He got the upper hand immediately by doing what he did with the liquor bottle. He almost fucking killed me, all for a worthless druggy.”
Your brows furrow. “Who?”
“Rue went to him with some made-up story about me harassing her and some friend of hers online. When in reality I want nothing to do with her. So then he threatened to kill me and finally fucking tried to.”
“Why would she do something like that?” It feels like he isn’t giving you the whole story. He’s laid out the edges of a puzzle, but is withholding the middle.
He shrugs. “She’s a drug addict, how should I know?”
Before you can reply, can think of a polite way to say: so what’s the real story here, he takes his turn.
“How come we were never friends?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, we’ve known each other since we were five-years-old. We grew up together, have known each other for over a decade now. And only in the last week have we really finally talked, or spent any amount of time together.”
You lean back in your seat. “Well, just because you grow up with someone doesn’t mean that fact has to serve as some prerequisite to becoming best friends or something. Sometimes people, even from a young age, just don’t click. You were always running around on the playground, playing sports with others. I was always sitting off to the side and reading or coloring or playing with toys. I guess you were just more outgoing than me.”
“You know what they say: opposites attract.”
You tell yourself he’s just referring to friendship.
He lays back again. “Well, it may’ve only taken eleven years, but we’re friends now. I just… I just wonder what things might’ve been like had it happened sooner.” He sighs, then, “Your turn again.”
To an extent, you wonder that, too. Mostly just what it would’ve been like to have a best friend for that long.
“What happened between you, Maddy, and Cassie?”
“Not going to give me an easy one, huh?”
You let out a small laugh.
“Me and Maddy had been together since sophomore year. I guess we just grew comfortable with one another, even if we weren’t always happy. Even if it wasn’t always healthy. It didn’t start out toxic. We were happy at first. For awhile. A long while. But she just…it was like she wasn’t pleased unless we were fighting and then making up.
“It was just a constant cycle of her beating me down, then trying to build me back up again through sex. She just…she made me feel like shit about myself. As both her boyfriend and a man. It was like it wasn’t bad enough: the shit I dealt with at home with my dad. She just had to become one more problem in my life that I was forced to deal with.
“I’d hoped that if I loved her hard enough, if I gave her enough, she’d love me back the way I wanted to be loved. The way I loved her. Turns out I was just a fucking idiot.”
Tears sting your eyes. You feel so sorry for him. To be so young and to have already known an emotionally abusive relationship was heartbreaking. It was one reason why you refused to date at such a young age. You were all too young to understand yourselves, nevermind another person. Not in the context of loving and taking care of them, at least. You all were barely even fully-formed people yet.
So that was what Lexi had been referring to before. Just like everything, there were always two sides.
“And Cassie?” You ask, softly.
A muscle in his jaw feathers. “Just a giant fucking mistake. We first hooked up a couple weeks after Maddy and I had broken up…again. It happened on New Year’s Eve. I just…maybe I was trying to get even for what Maddy had done to me at the beginning of the school year—fucking a guy in the pool at McKay’s house—right in front of everyone.
"And then we hung out more, and at first I thought she was different. Maybe better for me. Until she started blowing up my phone with hundreds of calls and texts, screaming one night in my room about how crazy she was, how she’d never let me be with anyone else. How she was better for me than all the rest.”
Your brows raise. That unhinged? Cassie had always seemed so sweet and demure to you. But you’d also hardly ever been around her outside of school.
And dating—being in relationships—seemed to sometimes bring out the worst in people. Facets they themselves didn’t even know they had.
“I’m sorry, Nate. I never knew Cassie was so…” You trail off, until he fills in the rest for you.
“Psychotic?”
You laugh. “I wasn’t going to say it like that, but…” You shift legs, wrapping your arms around your other one now. “Your turn.”
He remains lying back, wanting this question to come off as something he’s casually asking. Whereas, in reality, he’ll be holding onto every word of your answer.
“Have you ever dated before?”
You feel like you suddenly want to use your out, but refrain. It’s a simple enough question, with a simple answer. “No.”
He looks over at you. “Never?”
You shake your head. “Nu-uh.”
His brows raise. He’d never known you to have a boyfriend before, but until recently he’d not exactly kept tabs on you.
It surprises him.
“Have you never kissed anyone or had sex?” He prays the answer to both is no. Also hopes you don’t cut his questioning you short.
You’re quiet for a moment, the two of you just staring at one another. Until, finally, you decide to answer. “No. And I’m not ashamed to say it. Not having done either of those things is a choice, just like having done them is as well.”
He sits up, hunching over to try and hide the erection he can feel forming.
No one has ever been inside of you—not in your mouth, not in your pussy, and not in your ass. Another pair of lips have never even touched your own, another tongue has never tasted you. Another pair of eyes has never explored your lovely naked body.
He wants to know what you do, then, to satiate yourself when the mood strikes. Do you rub at your clit until you come? Do you finger yourself—he wonders if your hymen is still intact? Do you bunch a pillow up between your legs, humping it until you've finished and the case is soaked? Or do you take and rub your teddy against your wet, needy pussy until you’re sore and can’t take it anymore?
God he wants to know what you fucking taste like. Wants to feel your fingers in his hair as he goes down on you. Needs to know what your perfect pussy feels like around his cock.
But he knows it’s too soon for any of that. For you, at least.
“That’s not something to be ashamed of. Not nowadays. You should be proud of yourself for having held out this long. I admire it.”
You shrug. “It’s not that hard to do.”
He smirks. “That’s because you’ve never done it before. Once you’ve been with someone in that way…giving up that kind of intimacy is difficult.”
You think any kind of intimacy must be hard to let go of after having it. Whether it’s emotional, intellectual, physical…sexual. Maybe it’s one more reason you keep most people at arm’s-length. If you never let anyone in, then you’ll never have to worry about losing them.
You clear your throat. “My turn.”
He lays back again.
“Can I ask about your dad?”
He flexes his jaw. “What about him?”
“Why do you hate him so much?”
There’s a long pause and then he finally sits up. “I guess it’s time for me to go.”
You plant both of your feet on the floor, now sitting on the edge of your swing-chair. “You don’t have to. I’m sorry. I was just curious. Since he always seems so…perfect, you hating him, I guess, is just a source of confusion for me. Then again, maybe that perfection is the source of it: your hate. I don’t know.”
“That’s part of it. But not all.” And that’s all the answer he’s willing to give you.
Letting onto his hate for his father in the first place was a mistake. But that loathing sometimes seeped out. And he feels like he can be honest with you. He trusts you. So, sometimes he lets go a little. That lid he keeps so tightly screwed slips loose sometimes in your presence.
He stands and you fill with guilt.
You’d gone too far. You’d known better—that asking about his father would end up being a mistake—but you’d brought him up anyway. And now you’d ruined the day.
“You really don’t have to leave. We can talk about something else?”
He pretends to consider that for a moment. When in reality, he’s all too-pleased that you’re so eager for him to stay.
Then, he steps over to you, standing in front of your seat, towering over you as you look up at him. He briefly thinks that this would be a perfect position for the both of you to be in as you take him into your mouth.
Then, he kneels down. One week was all it had taken for you to bring him to his knees.
He reaches up, grabbing either of the ropes the chair hangs from from on either side of you. “It’s Friday.”
You smile nervously. “That’s very observant of you.”
He smiles, letting out a small chuckle. “I just mean that it’s only four o’ clock; still early. We could go do something together.”
He begins to lightly swing you, just barely.
“Like what?” You ask quietly.
He shrugs. “Whatever you want. I could take you to dinner, take you shopping. I’ll take you wherever you want to go, even if you just want to drive around.”
You don’t know how to respond to his offer. “You don’t have anywhere else you need to be?”
“Not at all.” He wants so desperately to touch you, but he sees you like a newborn fawn, easily frightened; skittish. So he refrains. For now at least.
You glance to the set of glass doors beside the two of you which lead into your backyard. At the sun still high in the sky and tree branches blowing lightly in the wind. And then you look back to Nate, seeing no good reason to waste such a beautiful day cooped up inside.
“Okay.”
He smiles. “Good.” He stands, offering you his hand.
You take it, doing the same. “I’ll just be a minute, I need to change again. Don’t really want to go out in sweats.”
He nods, going to leave, then stops by your closet. He pulls the doors open and you watch as he pulls out a light-pink sundress, then turns back to you, holding it out in your direction.
“You don’t have to wear it, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen it on you at school before. Just thought it might look nice.”
You gently take the dress from him.
He speaks before you can tell him no. “I’ll be waiting in the living room. Take your time.”
Once the door has shut behind him, you look down at the dress in your hands, then at the things you usually wear—the clothes you feel most comfortable in—beckoning you from your closet.
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While you dress, Nate leans back on the couch, hoping you wear what he’s picked out for you. In truth, he wants to dress every inch of you. He wants to do your hair, your makeup—even if you never wear any. He wants to pick out a cute matching pair of lingerie for you—so only he knows what’s under your clothes—your shoes, your jewelry, even your perfume.
He isn’t sure why it means so much to him—perhaps it’s just another thing he feels the need to have control over. He wants you to look nice. He knows you’re capable of matching his ideal picture of what he wants you to be in his head.
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When you finally emerge from your bedroom fifteen minutes later—you’d spent half of that time sitting on your bed considering putting the dress away—he’s left speechless.
You’d put on the dress, along with a cute pair of sandals, your toes already painted a pleasant shade of pink, which just so happens to match the item you’re now wearing. And between your breasts hangs a necklace.
You stand in the entryway awkwardly, one of your hands clutching your other arm. “I feel ridiculous,” you whisper, your face red.
He stands, coming to position himself in front of you. “You look beautiful.”
You’re surprised by his response. Wearing something which shows off so much of your body makes you want to crawl out of your skin.
You’d considered putting on a cardigan to cover your arms, but it’s almost ninety-degrees outside. So you decided against it.
He reaches around to the base of your ponytail, his thumb, index and middle finger gripping your hairband. “May I?” He asks, looking down at you.
You feel dumbstruck by the sensation of the base of your hair in his grip, so you just nod.
He gently pulls the band free, your hair falling over your shoulders and down your back, coming to rest just above your ass.
He’s never seen hair as long as yours before. Why the hell do you keep it up all the time?
He flexes his hand, the holder now firmly around his wrist and he reaches up with both of his hands, running his fingers through your soft hair, massaging your scalp as he styles it.
You just stare up at him, his face the picture of concentration as his fingers work against your head, through your long strands of hair. Your eyelids droop just a bit out of the feeling of relaxation that comes over you, goosebumps rising on your arms.
Nate takes note of that, as well as the quiet whimper in the back of your throat as his fingers brush against the base of your neck for just a moment. He likes that you like the way he’s touching you. He wants to know what other places his fingers and hands could explore that would get him similar results.
Finally, once he deems your hair presentable to his personal satisfaction, half of it falling down your back, the other half split evenly over both of your shoulders, he slips one hand into his pocket, the other coming to rest under your chin, making you look up at him again.
He feels blood rush to his cock at the flushed, lax look on your face as your hooded eyes stare up into his own.
“Why don’t you wear your hair down more often? It looks very pretty like this.”
“It gets in my way,” you state, your voice now having a dreamy quality to it.
He really likes you like this. All soft and submissive and dressed how he likes. He wants you wrapped around his finger sooner rather than later. Completely his in every single fucking way imaginable.
Today will be one step closer to getting that future.
He deems what you’ve said a good enough answer, but he knows you’ll have to get used to it. Your hair being down suits you far better than it being up.
He steps away, walking over to the door, holding it open for you.
Once you’ve locked it behind you, he holds open the passenger side door of his truck for you, same as always, shutting it firmly once you’re inside.
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ciaonicole85 · 2 days
Text
Part 3: What Then?
This was supposed to be a three part series, but it will probably be 4 or 5 parts. Sydcarmy is a tangled mess of intense care interlaced with anxiety and denial. So they need HELP from their friends and family along the way! Here's a convo with Natalie and Carmen. It takes place just a few days after he found out that he'd made Sydney's best meal ever. Then he inadvertently confessed she's the best part of his day and his heart's dearest wish...j/k, but not really ;)
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On a brisk Monday afternoon Carmen rang the bell at Pete and Natalie's home. The doorbell's speaker answered back, with Natalie's hurried voice. "It's open Bear! Just come up to the nursery." He entered their home noting the new family photos hanging on the wall leading up the stairs. They were black and white shots with Pete and Nat walking into the hospital, the next just after Baby Angeline was placed in Natalie's arms, another with Pete and the baby, one shot of her curled bitty toes, and the last was all three of them in the hospital bed. Pete had hired a hospital photographer and as antithetical as that was to anyone with an ounce of Berzatto blood, Natalie let him do it. The result was so unexpectedly tender and beautiful that he paused on the stairs to soak it in. Pete is really a good guy. He was made from an entirely different mold than any man Carmy had grown up around. "Carm?!" Natalie called. "Coming." He turned into the nursery to find Natalie bundling up "Angie" and fastening her into one of those baby slings. Then with one fluid motion before he could speak, she slipped the sling over his shoulders. "Okay, Uncle she's yours!" "So, how does this work?" he asked, looking down at his tiny niece, his eyes as big as beach balls. Angie blinked back at him extremely unbothered.
Natalie rolled her eyes and chortled.
"It's already working. It's fool-proof! Okay, let me get my coat and we'll head out." They strolled down the older suburb's tree-lined streets past others pushing babies, walking dogs, and the occasional Amazon delivery truck. "Carmy, this is really nice and you're welcome to drop by anytime, but what did you want to talk about?" Natalie enquired. He had texted her the other night asking to discuss something important. He kept his eyes on Angie's blissful little face, swallowed, and began. "I'd like to split my share of the restaurant with Syd. She's put in so much work, took several months without pay, and even though I'm the EC she's the main developer of at least half of the menu and the weekly specials. When I was sick recently, she ran the place like a pro. She deserves it. Also, I think if I give her a financial stake she'll stay for at least 5 years. We need that. What do you think?"
Natalie contemplated him for a moment. "Well, part of me agrees and the other part...Carmy, please don't get defensive." "Nat. How can I not when you’ve said that?" "Is this a solely a business decision? Because if it isn't I don't think you need to or should do this to keep her. " Carmy stopped walking, his face falling with frustration and shame. "Have you been talking to Richie?" Natalie stopped and took his arm in hers. "No, I haven't. Look, sorry. What I meant is things are so good between you two." They resumed walking. "Yeah, and that's a problem?" "Not at all. The way you are together...maybe it's the hormones but I've cried sometimes because you are just yourself with her. I've never seen you smile so much with anyone else. Your freakin’ posture is more relaxed when she comes in the room. I could go on, Bear." "You see all that? What about-what about her? Am I any good for her?" he asked in a low, wistful tone. Natalie pulled his arm tighter. She paused, to choose her words carefully. She and Camry were no strangers to family interference in their love lives. "Well, I haven't known Sydney that long, but she tends to spiral, and she pushes through until she's sick or lashes out. Kinda like you do. I noticed that it’s gotten better though. Since we opened, you've been consistently checking in with her, collaborating with her, encouraging her, making her take breaks, and pouring time into her. She's far less doubtful; she believes in herself."
Carm nodded slowly, reflecting on Sydney's growth. "Well, she deserves that. I promised her that she wasn’t alone in this. My focus was not where it should’ve have been during the reno and Friends and Family.”
He exhaled heavily and went on.  
“So, it sounds like she lights up my life and for her, I'm a good boss or even her big brother."
Natalie shook her head, smirking.
" Yeah, you’re a great boss now, but little sisters don't look at their brothers the way Sydney does you. Do you remember when we were all talking in my office and you spilled hot coffee on your shirt? You peeled it off and the poor girl looked at you, as your sister it pains me say this, like she wanted to jump you. When you left to get a clean shirt, she didn't remember what she had been saying." " What!?!? Okay...." Carm scoffed trying and failing to suppress a huge smile. "Also, does she ever leave before 11 instead of sitting in those greasy whites with you every single night for how long? One to two hours!?" She continued. "My point is if you want to divide your share with her because it's good business and fair, and I agree it is, then let me do it too so we're even. Otherwise, I think you’re already three-quarters of the way there with her. She doesn't need to be bought."
They walked in silence for a few minutes. "Natalie, I understand, but I still want to split my share. I think it’s the right thing to do. You don't need split yours though." "First I don't want the largest share of the restaurant and second.... Pete and I may move to be near his parents next year." Natalie bit her lip and glanced at Carmy worry etched in her brow.
"We think it would be good for Angie. You know, to be close to her grandparents and she'd have young cousins nearby too." Carm squeezed her arm, missing her already. "Yeah, I met them at the wedding. They were...Pete’s parents for sure. Angie would have a normal set of grandparents around." Natalie took a deep breath, a gamut of emotions crossing her face. "Choosing Pete was the biggest act of rebellion of my life. I honestly felt repulsed by him at first, until I realized that he was real, and I didn't have to be on guard all the time. Angeline should have that from the start." She bent over to kiss her baby's head which was protected from the cool air by a lilac-colored beanie. "Sydney's a really good choice too. Businesswise and/or otherwise. So, if you're certain about this call Uncle Cicero. This won't change anything with our loan repayment, but his lawyer could help draft a contract. Then we'll ask Sydney if she wants to accept and if she refuses...just give her one of those Sydney-land stares of yours."
Carmy groaned. "You did talk to Richie!"
Natalie erupted into a storm of giggles. Carmen dropped her arm.
"Look, he started it. I told him to chill, but that Sydney-land thing...You have an season pass, bro! It’s very cute though.”
Next time on "What Then?"- Sydney's workversary (work anniversary)
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