#and they didn't have to make this this is a cash grab so i get to be as mean as i want | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gyuzgrl · 2 months

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off the market ||csc||

summary- You have a crush on your favourite customer. He's big and kind and pretty and god the things you wanted to do to him were unholy. Little do you know, he feels the exact same way.

"welcome!"

That's all you said. All you could say. All it took for Seungcheol to fall hopelessly in love.

He was a regular at your pet daycare center. Him and his puppy Kkuma were there virtually every day, either to pick up a treat or to drop her off in your care for the day.

It was safe to say they were you favourite customers. Sure the dog was cute, but lord, Seungcheol had you acting like a schoolgirl whenever he came around. With his deep voice, his charming smile and god those arms- how could you resist?

You were almost certain however, that he wasn't interested. Sure, you'd caught him staring at you a couple times, sure it was a little odd how he'd tip you a small fortune every now and then, sure his hand lingered on yours for longer than necessary when paying, but there was no way, you were sure. No way a man like him was still on the market.

So you loved him from afar.

Well, as far as he'd let you go, at least.

"Kkuma!" you beamed, reaching out to take the eager fluff ball from Seuncheol's arms.

She snuggled into you, tongue lolling out as you scratched behind her ears.

"spoilt little princess, this one"

You look up to find Seungcheol's gaze fixed onto you.

"y-yeah, she's a little diva, aren't you baby?" you coo, "dropping her off again, Mr Choi?"

He hums, reaching closer to ruffle her fur, "work's gotten a bit much these days- timings are crazy y'know"

Your breath hitches at the sudden proximity. His hand was aimed at the dog, sure, but it was so close- ghosting over the plush skin of your upper chest.

Sucking in a sharp breath, you steady yourself.

"I can uh, I can imagine, sir. I'll keep her safe, don't you worry"

You say it out of duty, but something about that title has Seungcheol fighting demons in his head. Sir. Sir, you call him, like it's the simplest, sweetest thing in the world. Little do you know, behind the crescents of those pretty doe eyes, his thoughts are nothing but pure filth.

Hesitantly, he pulls away, clearing his throat.

"I'll be back in a couple hours, shouldn't be too long... thanks for keeping her"

"it's my job" you laugh, "you're paying me aren't you, sir?"

He coughs, eyes darting all over. Sir. There you go again.

"I'll um- I'll get going. Bye, y/n"

He turns around too quickly to see the crimson hue diffusing across your cheeks. God you loved the way he said your name. It rolled off his tongue so easily.

"bye-bye!" you call after him.

All your interractions had been similar to this. He'd stop by, make polite conversation and leave. But still, still your heart thudded in your chest at the thought of him. He was just so perfect.

A couple of hours later, you hear the door open. It's late at night, so your first instinct is to grab something sharp before you make your way to the cash register out front.

Meekly, you tiptoe outside, clutching a pair of kuromi scissors in your fist.

"y/n?" a familiar voice calls.

It's just Seungcheol. Good.

You breathe a sigh of relief, walking out right away as you greet him with that million dollar smile of yours.

"welcome!"

"hope Kkuma wasn't too much of a mena-" he pauses, glancing down at your hand, "what's up with the scissors?"

"oh- uh, nothing nothing, just as a safety measure- I didn't know it was you so..."

He tenses, unsure of how to feel. On one hand, you insinuated that you felt safe around him, while on the other, you think you're unsafe in the store.

"can I walk you home?"

You're stunned. Your legs feel like jelly and you can barely process his words.

"can you what"

"walk you home. If you feel uncomfortable walking alone this late, that is. I live a minute away, and it really wouldn't be a hassle to step out for a seco-"

"I couldn't ask that of you sir," you interrupt, "it's not that big of a deal either way"

"you aren't asking. I'm offering. and it is a big deal, y/n. I want you to be safe, to feel safe."

Oh that one went straight to your cunt.

"I-" you hesitate.

"look, I'm here almost every day anyways- if that makes you feel any better. if you're gonna refuse, don't do it 'cause you think I'd be inconvenienced. I won't." he says, now gently prying the scissors out of your grasp, "but if you honestly just don't want me to walk you home, I'll back off"

"no it's not that-" you add, urgently.

"how 'bout we try it out today, and you tell me if you wanna continue, that okay?"

You nod, lowering your head in a lame attempt to hide the furious red glow of your cheeks. Seungcheol seems to have noticed already, though. He places the scissors onto the register beside you, and turns to look into your eyes.

When he finds you staring up at him already, he's pleasantly surprised. There's a long silence- a pause in time- and the air around you stills. It's just you and him, gazing into each other's eyes, gauging what the other feels.

He must not know how intimidating his stare is, considering how he refuses to look away. That is until, of course, he spies movement in his vision.

Your hands are shaking. You didn't know they were, until Seungcheol's gaze leaves your own, dropping to your trembling hands.

He steps closer.

"your hands are all jittery today" his voice is low and gentle, "why're you so nervous?"

The space between you lessens as he moves closer, his hand reaching over to hold your trembling one, interlacing his fingers with yours.

You suck in a sharp breath, letting it go in a staccato shudder.

"do I make you nervous?"

Your eyes, wide and round, dart across the room, opting to look anywhere but at him.

"do I?" he pushes, squeezing your hand.

"I-" you start, "I just um- it's a bi-"

Your words are cut off by a shrill bark.

Fuck. Kkuma. You forgot about Kkuma.

"Kku-Kkuma," you stutter, ripping your hand out of his grasp, "I gotta get her out"

He groans, his arm chasing after you as you whip your head around and scurry into the play room. He was so close- he almost got through to you.

His frustrations subside instantly, however, when you return, carrying a sleepy Kkuma in your arms. How the little puppy nuzzled into you, so safe and comfortable, made Seungcheol's heart ache. Kkuma's instincts were never wrong.

"c'mere princess," he coos, and you look up at him with wide eyes. Did he just-

His eyes are on you, knowingly. "missed me, didn't you Kkuma?"

Oh. Right. The dog.

Seungcheol's gaze remains fixed on you, a teasing smirk playing at his lips as you draw closer.

"you're all red" he grins, "here lemme take her" Before you manage to protest, his hands graze the skin of your forearm as he scoops Kkuma out of your embrace and into his.

It was brief, the contact, but you felt something akin to electricity when his fingertips touched your skin. The glow on your cheeks only brightened in response and he bit back a laugh.

"I'll- I should lock up"

"mm you go do that,"

Even with your back turned, you can feel his eyes burning into you, an attentive stare watching all your actions- how you locked up the register, switched off the lights, reached up to pull your shutters closed.

It was endearing to him. You worked so hard everyday, did so much all alone. All he wanted was to help, really.

So he does.

As you nod towards the door, signalling that you're ready to head out, Seungcheol follows.

You pull the main entrance closed, reaching up on tiptoes to yank the outer shutters down, struggling to hook your fingers into the handle. He notices. Of course he does.

Silently, he brushes up against you, his chest dangerously close to your back. His arm extends above your own and he pulls the handle down with ease.

Your brain short circuits.

"what are y-" you gasp, turning around to face him. The air he breathes out fans across your face and his eyes are set on you. This was dangerous. The proximity between your bodies, the warmth of his breath, the way his eyes darted down to your lips- it was too much.

"y/n,"

"yes?"

There's a pause. Seungcheol's brows scrunch up as if he's trying to find the right words to say.

"you don't have to think so hard, Mr Choi," you offer, staring up him with wide eyes.

"Seungcheol." he states, "call me Seungcheol"

You're so taken aback you miss the desperate "please" he adds in at the end of his sentence.

"Seungcheol,"

"sounds so pretty when you say it"

There's a pull between your bodies. It's gradual and painfully slow, but you both feel it. He leans in, eyes darting to your lips, and your eyes flutter closed.

Hot breaths fan your face as you wait for him to kiss you, each exhale burning against your skin.

"is this okay?" he murmurs.

You try to say yes, to say something, but all that comes out is a shaky exhale. Lips parted, lashes fluttering, you looked so pretty. He couldn't resist the way you drew him in.

Slowly inching closer, Seungcheol presses his lips to yours in a soft kiss. It's tentative, hesitant, almost, like he doesn't want to scare you away. His plump lips cradle yours so gently, it's like he's barely even there.

You draw back, breathing hard. "we shouldn'-" you start, turning your head away, before he cups your jaw and pulls you in once again.

This time he works urgently against you, sucking at your lower lip so fervently, it leaves you breathless. Any semblance of doubt leaves your mind, and you pull him closer, fisting his shirt.

It takes everything in you to hold yourself together when his tongue licks at the seam of your mouth, demanding entrance. While he explores the hollow of your mouth, your hands roam the expanse of his broad shoulders, feeling each hard-earned muscle tense under your touch.

Your lungs burn for air, pleading for sustenance, even for a second, but his grip on you stays firm, holding you in place. Feeling woozy from the lack of oxygen, you have to push him away, almost, fisting his hair with one hand and tugging him back.

Finally, you breathe.

"woah, there-" he grins, when your knees buckle, causing you to faceplant into his chest.

You groan, muffled by the fabric of his shirt.

"c'mon, let's get you home, hm? we should probably sit down and uh, talk." he mutters, motioning between you and him, "about this, I mean"

"yeah let's- let's go home"

The walk is surprisingly pleasant. Any expected awkwardness, any uncomfortable tension, seems to have vanished.

You chat as you walk side by side, Seungcheol holding Kkuma's leash while you hold onto his free arm. It's painfully domestic, honestly. Your heart thuds violently in your chest with every step you take with him.

"...and then she told Hansol to call her his cutie sexy baby- you should've seen the look on all our faces, I wanted to quit my job then and there-" he shivers as he narrates an incident to you, and you giggle away like a schoolgirl. The way Seungcheol made you smile so effortlessly was commendable. No matter when he showed up, what he said, where he was going, he always made you smile.

"poor him," you offer, sympathetically, grinning from ear to ear as you neared your apartment. "this is me,"

"if you're tired from today, we can talk sometime else, oka-"

You interrupt him with a tiny peck on his lips, earning a look of disbelief in response.

"god help me"

Which is how you've found yourself here- stumbling out of the elevator with his lips pressed on yours, hands grabbing feverishly at the flesh of your hips.

"wai- Seungcheol hold on-" you giggle, fumbling to thumb in your house code.

He backs away, pouting and looks down at Kkuma apologetically.

"come in"

There's a hint of tension in the air now, with everything becoming far more tangible than before. This is happening. This is real.

You beckon him over to the couch, letting Kkuma settle on a rug somewhere in the kitchen, slowly drifting to sleep.

He sits beside you, leaving respectful distance.

"I uh, I don't want this to seem like I'm just fucking around- I don't usually do this,"

"do what?"

"this" he motions between your bodies. "I've been wanting this, wanting you, for so long you have no idea"

"oh-" You feel the breath knocked out of your lungs. Seungcheol felt the same way you did? He's wanted you for all this time, just like you've wanted him?

"I'd like to take you out on a date. Properly. I really like you, y/n-"

It's a miracle you don't melt into a puddle of mush then and there.

Choi Seungcheol. Hot customer. Has feelings for you.

"and it's okay if you don't feel the same way- really- I just uh, didn't wanna kiss you and leave things unspecified"

"I-" you start, staring up at him as you searched for the right words to say, "I like you too"

His face softens, a soft smile taking over his lips. You feel an all too-familiar heat growing between your legs.

"I'm glad"

The distance between your bodies is bridged by his hand- a galiant soldier crossing borders into foreign territory. It slides over yours, interlacing your fingers in a firm knot.

A sharp breath puffs out your lips, and all you can do is say his name. You aren't sure why, you aren't sure what you're asking for, but you call him- your voice airy and desperate.

"Seungcheol,"

"hm?"

Words escape you. There's nothing you can find in yourself to say. You stare into his eyes, watching the way the brown of his irises hold your picture within them.

"oh, sweetheart..."

And his lips are on yours.

Seungcheol guides your hand to his shoulder, sliding his own to your waist as he draws you closer. The way your lips mold against each other is nothing short of perfect, like you were made for eachother.

He nips at your lower lip, dragging it as he pulls back ever so slightly, and you can't help but moan. He grins. Your face grows beet red and you pull away, panting, embarrassed.

"you're adorable, y'know that?"

"shut up"

"you've got a lotta attitude for someone who can't handle more than a little teasing"

"I- I can handle more" you argue, brows furrowing as you shuffle closer to him.

"oh?"

Your eyes widen.

"n-no I didn't mean it like tha-"

"like what?" he smirks. "how'd you mean it then?"

You lower your gaze, opting to stare instead at the fabric of his trousers. Seungcheol hooks a digit under your chin and tilts your head right back up, forcing you to look at him, cheeks burning.

"who're you hiding from, hm?"

"m'sorry," you breathe, looking at him through your lashes.

"I wanna make you feel good," he mumbles as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ears. "may I?"

It's a simple thing- asking for permission- but it has your heart fluttering. He asks you 'may I?' like he's at your mercy. Like you have him bewitched. He'd do anything and everything you ask of him, now more than ever.

You nod, leaning in to kiss him yet again, before he lifts you off the couch and into the bedroom. His strong arms hold you steady, and all your worries fade away. All the questions in your head dissipate, until all that's left is him.

Only him.

"this okay?" he murmurs, placing you on the bed.

"more than okay"

"I'm gonna take this off now, hm?" Deft hands slide up your torso, lifing your shirt off to reveal the lacy bra underneath. He has to pause for a moment to compose himself at the sight.

"so pretty,"

"Seungcheool" you whine, tugging his hands to your breasts, "touch me"

Any resolve he'd built up, to control himself for you, comes crumbling down.

Like a man starved, Seungcheol devours you, placing hungry, open-mouthed kisses along your stomach as he trails his lips to the cup of your bra.

He kisses the swell of your breasts, while his hand slides under your back, unclipping the garment with ungodly precision. You gasp when your nipples brush against the loosened fabric, sensitive and hard.

"fuck," he drawls when he tosses your bra aside to reveal your bare chest. Seungcheol kisses the tender skin, taking one of your nipples into his mouth while his hand caresses the other, pinching at the sensitive bud.

His actions elicit a whine on your part, back arching into him with every swivel of his tongue, every pinch of his fingers. There's a dark grin painted across his handsome face when he pulls away, looking down at you.

"look so pretty under me, sweetheart"

You turn away, bashfully, feeling small under the weight of his stare. It's hot, how Seungcheol's self-assurance radiates off of him. He's confident but not pushy, not arrogant like the other boys you've been with. The prolonged eye contact feels more intimate than anything you've ever experienced- just you and him, gazing at each other like the world outside is a problem for another day. Right now, nothing exists but the two of you.

A hand travels down the valley of your breasts to the hem of your pants, teasing the skin right under the waistband. He wants to savor this, to savor you. But god you're so desperate he can't bear the thought of dragging this out any longer.

"gonna make you feel good, yeah sweetheart? would you like that?"

"please" you whimper, rubbing your thighs together.

Anticipation swells in your belly as Seungcheol crawls down to face your cunt, keeping his eyes fixed on yours with each sultry motion. He grasps the button of your pants with his teeth, tugging it open before his hands slide them down your legs, fingers ghosting over the smooth flesh of your thighs.

"pretty, pretty girl"

Shamelessly, he spreads you open, rubbing along your slit through your soaked panties.

"fuck baby- you're dripping" he groans, pressing the fabric into your folds. Your body jerks at the touch, and you let out a pathetic whimper.

"all of this 'cause of me? such a good girl" he coos.

"all 'cause of you Cheol- fuck- only you"

That was it. Seungcheol considered himself a patient man, usually, but tonight? God, he wanted to rip those flimsy panties off of you and have you cum on his tongue again and again until you were crying.

In one swift motion, he leaves you bare, shoving your panties in his back pocket like some kind of trophy. His tongue finds your hole, dipping in just a little to collect your arousal before dragging it up to your clit.

"oh-"

You feel him grin against you, lapping at your clit slightly faster now. Your hands fly down to hold him in place, back arching as loud moans flood the room. You can't recall the last time a man has made you feel this good. Heck, you can't recall if they ever have.

"please- fuck don't stop don't stop," you whine, hips rolling up to match the rhythm of his tongue.

He groans when he realizes how you're using him for your pleasure, sending tingles across your skin.

"that's it, sweetheart- fuck that's my good girl" he mumbles against your cunt.

You feel your high approaching with the expert flick of Seungcheol's tongue, and you pull him closer in a desperate attempt to reach your orgasm. He senses you're close with the way your thighs begin to tense and quiver under his hold, so he slyly slips a finger into you, without warning, sending you straight over the edge in seconds.

Your voice breaks as you moan, head tipping back into the pillows as he pumps his finger in and out of your heat, working you through your orgasm.

"there we go, pretty- just like that, shit"

Seungcheol licks you clean, sending sparks shooting up your spine, before drawing back up to your lips to pull you into a messy, sticky kiss.

You taste yourself on his tongue, moaning as he licks into your mouth like he'd die if he didn't. The friction against your bare skin draws you back to reality, and you realize he's still clothed

"w-wait-" you pant, planting your hands on his chest.

He pulls away, eyes fluttering back open in confusion.

"what's wrong? d'you wanna sto-"

"no!" you interrupt, eyes widening. "not at all- I just..." you trail off, tugging at his shirt.

He chuckles.

"you just?"

"y'know" you reply, coy as ever, grasping his shirt once again.

"words, sweetheart, gotta tell me what you want" His voice is teasing, playful.

"your- your shirt..." you pout.

"mhm what about it?"

You glare up at him, brows setting into a deep frown. "don't be mean c'mon,"

"say it and I'll stop, promise"

"t-take your shirt off," you mutter, blushing wildly, "wanna see you"

He cocks a brow at you and you hastily add in a desperate "please", leaving him satisfied. Without wasting any more time, he settles back on his knees for a moment, yanking his shirt off to reveal his sculpted form.

Your mouth hangs open.

Sure, you figured he was fit- those arms were a dead giveaway- but this took the cake. Hard, chiseled muscles greeted you, sculpted by the gods themselves, and you felt your mouth water.

"oh wow" you breathe, reaching up to touch him and feel those muscles for yourself.

He grins, hovering back over you.

"perv"

"have I told you how much I like you?"

There's a pause, before you break out into a fit of giggles, grinning at each other like two lovesick teenagers.

Seungcheol shimmies his pants off too, kicking them away, leaving only his boxers on.

"are you gonna-"

"eat you out again? yes. yes I am."

You smack his chest, rolling your eyes.

"you can do that tomorrow- I wanna... wanna feel you," you whisper, "wanna feel you in me"

He mutters a quick "fuck" under his breath, hastily shoving his boxers down as he balances his weight on one arm.

"are you sure, sweetheart?"

"mhm"

"anytime you wanna stop jus-"

"just tell you, yes sir" you quip, rolling your eyes yet again, only this time, you take notice of the way his gaze darkens at your words.

Oh this is going to be fun.

"sir," you whine, rolling you hips up into his, "please- please fuck me I've been good, haven't I?"

You're unsure of where this sudden boost of confidence has come from, but Seungcheol's blown pupils and parted lips spur you on.

"I'll be so good for you, sir- promise," you pout.

"do you even- fuck do you even know what you're doing to me right now?"

"mhm"

"brat-" he snarls, dragging his cock against your folds. You moan, losing whatever semblance of power you managed to build.

"that's better,"

You're about to bite back, say something mean, but he interrupts, pushing his dick inside you, slow but firm.

"you're- fuck you're so big" you whimper, eyes welding themselves shut at the stretch of your walls. "it won't f-fit"

"I'll make it fit, I promise baby I won't hurt you, hm?"

You nod, tears welling up in your eyes when he pushes further. He was huge. Your toys had nothing on him. Nothing.

"shh sweetheart you're doing so well for me," he coos, pressing in until he bottoms out.

Your eyes brim over and you sniffle, trying to accomodate his size. It takes a minute, with him kissing your tears away and mumbling into your hair, but you finally give him the green light.

Automatically, his hips draw back and snap into you, thrusting in and out at a steady pace. His size was overwhelming, almost. He hit your g-spot effortlessly with each inward motion, and your brain fuzzed over with pleasure.

All you could think, all you could say, was him.

seungcheol, seungcheol, seungcheol- you chanted his name like a prayer, any notions of god, of a higher being, leaving your mind with him taking their place.

He held your life in the palm of his hand, commanding metaphorical deaths with his body. You'd be happy to die in his arms every night, and rise like phoenixes with the sun- souls unified after the previous night's escapades.

The steady but firm edge to his thrusts have you sobbing, crying on his dick, begging for something even you aren't sure of. Your cries echo through the room, followed by the sound of skin on skin. Your neighbours won't like this one bit, you'll definitely be in trouble tomorrow, but you can't bring yourself to stop.

He just feels so good.

"s-seungcheol I- please m'so close please please ple-" you sob, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him even closer.

He leans into your lips, capturing them between his own. It isn't a kiss. Your mouths hang open, moaning and sighing into each other with breaths so hot you feel like you're on fire. Like you're alive.

Distracted by the heat generated by your enmeshed breaths, you fail to notice how his hand creeps down to your clit. You cry out when his fingers make contact with the sensitive flesh, rubbing tight circles into you as his thrusts increase in speed.

"m'gonna- sir m'gonna cu-" you moan, cutting yourself off when you feel your body slip into pleasure. Your throat has gone bone-dry, like the last time you touched water was when you were in the womb.

"shit-" he curses, using you to finish himself off, before quickly following suit and finishing on your thighs.

"you're so beautiful- you're so goddamn beautiful" he rambles, collapsing on top of you.

Your throat hurts, and all you can do is wheeze as you try to soothe your burning lungs.

He notices, and grins to himself, ripping his body off of yours- "wait here, I'll be back".

He's gone for a minute, before returning with a towel and some water. "here" he says, holding the glass to your lips as you shuffle to sit up, "drink."

While you do that, he crawls back between your legs and gently wipes away the mess he made on your thighs.

It's basic decency, you know it is, but you can't help the way your heart flutters at how caring Seungcheol is.

"thank you" you murmur, cringing at the sting in your throat.

He looks confused for a moment.

"f-for cleaning me up"

God you were so cute. He couldn't bear it any longer.

"I always will, you don't need to say anything, sweetheart"

You blush, for the nth time that night, grinning from ear to ear as you're hit with realisation.

Choi Seungcheol is officially off the market.

#seventeen #seventeen smut #svt smut #smut #choi seungcheol #seungcheol smut #scoups #scoups smut #seventeen seungcheol #seungcheol x reader #shameless smut #PLEASE GIVE ME FEEDBACK I'M DYING OVER HERE

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ashwhowrites · 14 days

Note

Well, I'm feeling a bit petty lately. So say, Y/N and Eddie is in a relationship but another girl is hitting on him and rubbing it in Y/N's face and she has told Eddie "please, tell this girl off, because it's not fun what she's doing." But Eddie, that has only seen the sweet side of the other girl tells her 'there's nothing you have to worry about', maybe he likes the attention even though he's faithful to Y/N.

So one night when Y/N and Eddie is going to have a date night this girls calls is needs him for whatever reason and Eddie just says "be right back, babe."

And that's where Y/N draw the line. She usually stays at Eddie's and Wayne's but now she packs up her stuff and goes home and when Eddie comes back and gets frantic, she doesn't answer her phone and when he comes to her house to visit she just says: Why aren't you with "other girls name"? She's the one you treat as a girlfriend after all?" and close the door in his face.

And Eddie realizes he has fucked upp for real this time - for real real and maybe even gets a talking to by Wayne.

But it ends happily please?

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it! Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻 I tried my best to make it a happy ending and still keeping Eddie at blame.

Who's your girlfriend?

Y/N and Eddie's relationship never had arguments or disagreements. They worked perfectly together. But lately, a new girl shook things up.

Her name was Maddie, and Y/N hated her. She was a waitress at the hideout. Eddie and Y/N spent most of their time at the hideout, cuddled in their booth. It was something Y/N looked forward to every day, but now it sucked.

Maddie knew Eddie was taken, and she didn't care. She spent most of her shifts flirting with Eddie and it pained Y/N that he never told her to back off.

"Anything else?" Maddie asked, her attention on Eddie.

"We are all set, thank you." Eddie smiled, taking the check from Maddie's hand. She smiled back and walked off.

"Help me with the math?" Eddie asked as he handed Y/N the receipt. Y/N went to calculate a tip when she noticed tiny scribbles in the corner.

"What a bitch!" Y/N snarled, slamming the receipt on the table. "She wrote her fucking phone number."

"So? Ignore it." Eddie shrugged, digging cash out of his wallet.

"Ignore it? Eddie! She flirts with you all the time, and I try to ignore it. But this is straight disrespect. And I think you need to say something." Y/N explained.

"She doesn't mean it, you know waitresses do the most for a tip."

"I think she wants more than just the tip, Eddie," Y/N growled, and she slid out of the booth. Eddie followed after.

"Don't be like that. You know I've only got eyes for you." Eddie said, throwing his arm over her shoulder. But she shrugged him off and crossed her arms. She marched out of the bar, and Eddie tried to keep up.

"You're right, I'm sorry. Next time I'll say something." Eddie promised, grabbing her hand to make her stop.

Y/N sighed and kicked at the rocks in the parking lot.

"You will?" She asked, her sad eyes looking up at him.

"Of course." He said. Y/N let it go, holding his hand as they walked to his van and went home.

Y/N took deep breaths as they walked into the hideout. She was excited to finally see Eddie put Maddie in her place.

They sat down in their booth, no surprise Maddie was ready to serve them immediately. Her eyes stayed on Eddie as he ordered their drinks.

"You got it, handsome." Maddie flirted and then walked off.

Y/N kicked Eddie under the table, giving him a look. Her eyes hinted at Maddie.

"She's a nice girl, baby. Just being friendly." Eddie reassured her, moving closer to wrap his arm around her shoulder.

Y/N rolled her eyes but dropped it. The night was young and there would be plenty of time for Eddie to shut Maddie up. Y/N cuddled into his shoulder. She held the hand that hovered over her shoulder and pecked his jaw.

Maybe them being so cuddled up would help Maddie get the hint.

It didn't

Towards the end of their date, Maddie and Eddie got in a conversation about rock bands. Eddie removed his arm to talk with his hands. Y/N felt like the third wheel as she slurped down her drink.

Y/N was ready to leave. She couldn't sit here and watch them talk like she didn't exist.

"Excuse us, but we are leaving," Y/N said, standing up as she got out of the booth. She didn't care what Eddie had to say, she yanked him out of his spot.

"Oh, um bye!" Maddie rushed out as Y/N dragged Eddie out of the door.

"Well, that was rude." Eddie scoffed

"Rude? What was rude was you two acting like I wasn't even there! What was rude is that you told me you'd tell her off and you sat there like an idiot!" Y/N huffed, letting go of his hand as they made it to the van.

"She wasn't doing anything! We were having a friendly conversation." Eddie defended, starting the van.

"Friendly? Yeah right. I didn't know friendly conversations meant she'd be rubbing your arm and giggling at every fucking word. Trust me, babe. You are not that funny." Y/N said she knew she was being bitchy but she was beyond pissed.

"Why don't we talk about this when you calm down?" Eddie offered, peeling out of the parking lot.

But she never calmed down. She slammed the trailer door behind her as she marched into Eddie's room.

"Baby, come on let's talk" Eddie tried

"Nope. You didn't want to talk in the car so oh well. I am going to bed." She said, stripping out of her clothes and changing into pajamas she always left at Eddie's.

Eddie sighed but got ready for bed as well. He bit his lip as they lay in silence. She refused to cuddle him or let him touch her. She was on her side with her back towards him.

"Look I'm sorry." He said, his hand touched her shoulder but she slapped it away.

"Sorry, my ass. Go to bed." She snapped.

A few minutes passed, and both lay in silence.

Eddie groaned as his phone rang, he slipped out of bed to answer. Y/N turned on the lamp and sat up confused. It was very late for someone to be calling and she was worried that Dustin or someone needed help.

"Yeah, I'll be right there," Eddie said and he hung up.

"What's going on?" Y/N asked, moving to her knees.

"Maddie needs a ride home. I'll be right back." Eddie said he slipped on his pants and his jacket.

"Excuse me?"

"I'll be right back! Just go to sleep, love." Eddie said, leaning down and kissing her forehead.

"Edward Munson, do not go pick up that girl," Y/N growled, her tone was deep and angry. Eddie felt a little nervous as she glared.

"She called me! I can't just leave her at work." Eddie tried to defend.

"Yeah, she can stay at work until her next shift. Or call someone else. I'm sure she's got family and friends." Y/N shrugged. Then it clicked, she had Eddie's number. Y/N's face hardened and Eddie stepped back.

Her feet landed on the floor as her finger stabbed into Eddie's chest. He walked backward until his body hit his wall.

"She has your number, which means you called her! Which means you kept that receipt with her number on it." Y/N seethed. She couldn't believe her boyfriend kept Maddie's number.

"Yes, I did. But it was just as friends!" Eddie tried to defend himself.

"You knew I didn't like that she did that. You knew that I thought it was disrespectful towards our relationship."

"But I don't see it like that! I truly don't see an issue."

"Don't see the issue? I thought I made it clear. She's into you and you are leading her on because you enjoy the attention." Y/N said, her anger turning into a bit of sadness. Her boyfriend was enjoying the attention of someone else.

"I really need to go get her. And we can talk when I get back?" Eddie asked, Y/N stepped back and let him move away from the wall.

She was done talking and she was done listening. She nodded but didn't say a word. She kept her eyes on the floor as Eddie grabbed his keys and left.

Y/N refused to cry, she sniffled and took a deep breath. As she heard the van's engine start, she started to pack. She grabbed the nearest bag she could find and threw everything she had in it. If Maddie wanted Eddie so damn bad, she could have him. It wasn't like Eddie didn't already pick her a thousand times over Y/N anyway.

"You okay, kid?" Y/N looked up from her frantic packing. Wayne stood at Eddie's door with a sad smile.

"Uh yeah. I'm sorry if we woke you up." Y/N apologized, and she zipped up the bag.

"I'm sorry he's an idiot. He's going to realize soon, it takes Eddie a bit to see the real picture." Wayne sighed.

"Yeah well I'm not going to wait for him to see it," Y/N said, she had the bag on her shoulder and walked past Wayne.

"Let me drive you home." Wayne offered, as he grabbed his keys.

Eddie yawned as he finally got back home. It was nearly two am and he was exhausted. He was mentally exhausted by what was behind the door. He didn't want to have to argue with Y/N all over again.

Eddie walked into the trailer, shocked to see Wayne sitting on the couch.

"Why are you awake?" Eddie asked

"Why are you just getting home?" Wayne asked

"A friend needed a ride home." Eddie shrugged, as he took off his shoes and jacket. "But I'll talk to you in the morning. I don't want to keep Y/N waiting."

"She left," Wayne said, a disappointed tone in his voice.

"What? Why?" Eddie asked, he looked into his bedroom and his heart stopped. Half of his room was missing, all her stuff was nowhere to be seen.

"Go find out. And for once, listen to her." Wayne said as he walked back into his own room.

Eddie threw back on his shoes and jacket and headed back out.

He wasn't sure how many laws he broke as he pulled into Y/N's driveway. He climbed up the tree that led him straight to her window. He tapped on the glass, the light was on so he knew she was still awake.

Y/N yanked open her curtains to see Eddie. She rolled her eyes but opened the window.

"What are you doing here?" She sighed, crossed her arms, and blocked him from coming inside.

"You left, of course, I'm going to come get you," Eddie said, she ignored his puppy eyes and kept her ground.

"Right. After you were done with Maddie, right?" Y/N said

"Look Y-" but Y/N cut him off.

"No, Edward. We've talked about it, I've said how I've felt and you don't care. A friendship with Maddie is too important to you. So how about you leave me the fuck alone and go back to the girl you actually treat like a girlfriend. We're done." Y/N snapped, she slammed down her window and closed the curtains. This time she allowed herself to cry, she turned off her light so he couldn't see her shadow. She heard him knocking but she refused. She ignored his cries and pleas, she crawled into bed and allowed herself to cry to sleep.

~~~

Eddie paced in the living room all night. He waited for Wayne to wake up because he had no idea what to do. He knew he brushed how Y/N felt, but he thought it was jealousy. He didn't know she'd break up with him over it. He kicked himself for not truly listening and fixing the issue at the start.

Wayne walked out and Eddie ambushed him before he even made it to the hallway.

"She broke up with me. What do I do?" Eddie rushed out, the panic in his voice made him sound shaky.

"I'm sorry, Eddie. But I can't tell you what to do." Wayne said as he walked into the kitchen.

"Wayne, please. I can't let this girl go. If I knew how to fix it, I would have done it last night. I stayed up thinking and thinking but I was scared. What if I fucked up too bad? What if she never wants to be with me again?" Eddie panicked. His hands were in his hair as he yanked in frustration.

"Eddie, that girl told you the problem a thousand times. Listen to what she said, and you'll know what to do. But don't wait, do it now. A girl like that deserves way more than you offered her. I didn't raise you to hurt girls." Wayne lectured as he poured his coffee.

Eddie knew what he needed to do. He raced to Y/N's. Luckily it was a normal time so he could use the front door. He knocked and waited.

Y/N opened the door and went to slam it but Eddie caught it with his foot.

"Please, just give me a second to apologize."

Y/N sighed and opened the door.

"I'm sorry for pushing your feelings aside. I'm sorry for being a dick, and a bad boyfriend. I should have said something to Maddie the first time you felt uncomfortable. I'm sorry for everything and for making you upset. I know I don't deserve it, but I'm going to hate myself forever if I don't try to save this relationship. If I woke up one morning, alone in my thirties, knowing I could have had you right next to me and I didn't try for it. So please," he dropped to his knees and grabbed her hand. "Let me show you I heard you."

Y/N was confused about what it all meant, but she knew she loved Eddie and if there was a way to fix it, she wanted to do it.

"Okay, fine. What's your plan?" Y/N asked. Eddie jumped to his feet and grabbed her hand. He closed her front door and dragged her to his car.

"What are you doing?" She asked, but Eddie just had a big smile on his face.

"Something I should have done a long time ago." He said as he began to drive.

Y/N sat silently as she took in her surroundings. It clicked that they were heading to the hideout.

"Isn't it a little early to drink?" Y/N teased as Eddie pulled up into the parking lot.

"Yes, but that's not why we are here," Eddie said, he got out of the van and opened her door. He grabbed her hand and walked up to the front door, but didn't go in.

"Are we not going in?" Y/N asked

"We are, just need to do something first," Eddie said.

Y/N rolled her eyes as she saw Maddie walk up. She wasn't dressed in uniform so Y/N assumed she wasn't working.

"You wanted to see me?" Maddie asked, nervously looking at Eddie.

Y/N looked confused between both of them.

"Maddie, I am completely in love with Y/N. I know it was wrong of me to feed into your flirting. Even if I only wanted to be friends, I realize now it makes my girl uncomfortable and that's what matters the most. I also know now that your actions towards me were disrespectful to my relationship and whatever you thought was happening, is not happening. I've deleted your number, so I'd like it if you didn't call me ever again and never talked to me again." Eddie said, Y/N tried to hold back her laugh as steam came out of Maddie's ears.

Maddie didn't say anything, she stomped off and mumbled curse words under her breath.

"I know it doesn't fix everything. But I hope it's a start." Eddie said.

"It's definitely a start." Y/N smiled, holding Eddie's hand as they walked into the hideout. She gasped as she saw the whole small bar lit up in fairy lights, their booth had candles and a display of breakfast foods.

"Oh wow."

"Would you join me for a breakfast date?" Eddie asked his hand gestures towards the table.

"Oh absolutely," Y/N smiled as she walked towards their booth.

It was a start in the right direction. Maddie was out of their hair, and fixing their relationship could have all their attention.

Tags!

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#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson angst x reader #eddie munson fluff #ashwhowrites

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zyafics · 1 month

Text

play fake | part five

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

zya's notes thank u for being patient with me! <3

𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃 ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚

You weren't a cuddler.

At least, not with Rafe. When you fell asleep on his bed last night, he scoffed at the sight. How tired you were. How you immediately fell off post-orgasm. He had other plans, to make you come more, but it was obvious it wasn't going to happen. Instead, he helped you get under the comforter, and when you did, you instinctively pulled to the edge of the mattress, like you knew to put as much distance between you and him.

Rafe thought it would change by morning. That you would find yourself in his arms and he would be able to tease you about it. You didn't. Your hands tucked under your head, you faced the wall, laid on your side, and you did everything possible to avoid contact with him.

For some reason, it pissed him off.

Like he was mad at your subconscious when you didn't do anything wrong. He thought—assumed—you would let him in. When he poured a bit of himself last night, letting himself be vulnerable with you, he thought it was a gateway for you to return the sentiment. But, somewhere, deep down, you still didn't trust him.

He was the one who got out of bed first.

He went to the ensuite and took a shower, washing away his sweat and subtle case of hangover. Surprisingly, it wasn't that bad. He doesn't know if it's because, halfway through the night, clarity dawned on him or because he was crossed with a different drug than his usual high. Either way, he was grateful.

Until the ringing started.

It happened once. It was your phone; the ringtone too obnoxious to be his. Then, it ended. And started again. This happened a couple more times until Rafe got annoyed and stepped out of the bathroom to check on who the fuck was calling you so early in the morning.

It was your job.

He softens for a moment. He forgot that you had shit to do, that the two of you were on opposite sides of the economic spectrum. He may have luxury and all the time in the world but you had work. You weren't kidding when you said you needed to pull doubles just to stay afloat.

He wanted to wake you up and give you the phone to handle it. But, something about your sleeping position makes him hesitate. You look so peaceful. Calm. Like you haven't had a good night's rest in a long time and he wasn't going to ruin that.

So, he did something he probably shouldn't.

He turned your phone off.

He went back to the bathroom to finish the rest of his routine and when he came out, you were starting to stir. Your hands were rubbing the sleepy haze out of your eyes and you were searching around the room to figure out where you were.

"You're up." He acknowledges, stepping out into his room. "Get ready. We're heading out."

"Go where?" You mumble drowsily, trying to remember your own name right now, much less try to get ready. "Wait, what time is it?"

Rafe doesn't say anything, glancing at the present that sits on his desk. He grabs it, throwing it onto the bed, which you manage to catch in the nick of time. "Here, before I forget." He declares, going to his closet to exchange his sweatpants for some outside attire.

You look inside the bag, more thoroughly this time. You counted a total of fourteen Plan B packs, the stems of the tulips were slightly-wilted from lack of water, and the envelope isn't a letter but rather a thick wad of something—like cash.

"I'm not taking this." You pull out the envelope and slide it across the bed. Rafe glances down at it, then back to you, a scowl forms on his face.

"You don't know what it is."

"It's money," you say, easily. "That wasn't part of the deal."

"So what?" He steps forward, closing in the distance as he stands before the bed, grabbing the envelope and holding it out to you again. "You need the money. Take it."

"No." You cross your arms, stubbornly.

God, this fucking early in the morning?

He clenches his teeth. "Why the fuck not?"

You take a beat before you answer. "You wouldn't get it."

"Try me."

He looks genuinely serious about knowing your answer. Not just another way to pick it apart and fight back, but to be willing. It makes you consider telling him the truth. Sighing, you explain. "It's just... it means that whenever you fuck up, you get to put some money in it and it fixes everything. I refuse to let you think that you can wave some cash in front of my face and everything will be forgiven."

There's more reasons why you don't accept the money, not for the exchange you're doing, but you rather not get into that right now. That explanation, in this context, was the most appropriate.

"That's not... I..." Rafe trails off, his mouth slightly slack from the confession. That's not what he meant to do, but there's some merit behind your words, nonetheless. It is easier to flash his wallet than apologizing for any misdemeanor he committed. It's something he does. It's something he learned from his father. "I'm not."

You chuckle. "Say that more convincingly and I might believe you."

Rafe swallows, watching the gentle smile light up your lips. He didn't realize how much he didn't appreciate it before. Not until you gave him the whole silent treatment and called him out.

"It's not," he starts again with a clear of his throat. "I do that. I'm not gonna lie about that. But, in this case... It wasn't just that. You needed the money. I took it out of your paycheck to buy Plan B. It cost nothing to me."

You don't answer him, glancing back at the bag. "You already bought me Plan Bs."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean you can cover rent with fucking contraceptive pills."

Pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, you take his words with some consideration. You admit, this is a version of his apology, no matter how pretentious it may seem. With that, you accept the envelope out of his hand. "Thank you."

Rafe is pleased at that. That you finally didn't give him such a hard time to help you. That you just accepted it, even if it was done with some initial hesitation.

Pulling himself off the mattress, Rafe turns back to his closet, only for your voice to stop him.

"You know, it's a bit presumptuous of you to assume we'll be having sex this much."

He looks at you, seeing you tilt your head at him in a challenge. The bag lifted off your lap to demonstrate the amount he bought.

"It's so I'll ever have to hear you complain about spending money again."

You chuckle. There it is, the cover of assholery to make up for the vulnerability he exposed just moments ago. "If this is the rate we'll be going, you should've just bought me birth control."

"Fuck off, it's not going to be a regular thing."

You laugh. "I guess I'll just use these with my other boyfriends. Since we won't be needing them."

Rafe stills. He knows you're teasing him, to get a rise out of anything you can find yourself on. But something in his blood runs hot as those words escape your lips. At the idea of you with others. He turns back to the bed, lowering himself to your level before grabbing your cheeks in one palm.

It wasn't done roughly. That's the reason why your smirk is so fucking conceited right now. He wants to do something to make you take back your words.

But nothing came to mind. Not this morning. Not after last night.

Instead, he mutters, "you play too fucking much."

He releases you with a light shove, enough for you to fall back against the pillows. Rafe grabs the first thing out of his closet and walks back to the bathroom, and just when he's about to close the door, he hears your laughter erupt from behind.

—

After getting ready, by wearing whatever you could find in Sarah's closet—which Rafe made you use because she hasn't been home in over two months—you called to check in with Sailor. Your phone was off, for some odd reason, and when you called to make sure the place is running regardless of your absence, you agreed to go to whatever the fuck Rafe planned.

It was shopping.

You feel out of place the moment you arrive at the outlet downtown of Figure Eight. It's mainly for Kooks to come and shop, the boutiques and storefronts are out of your price-range for so many reasons. You thought it was a cruel joke for Rafe to give you some money, only to expect you to spend it in places like here.

"No," you shake your head for the umpteenth time, moving onto the next space. For the past twenty minutes, Rafe's been trying to get you to stop and try on clothes. You've been declining all of the options. You know you won't be able to afford them so there's no real point. You hope you reject enough of them that the both of you can leave.

"You have to pick a place at some point."

"I don't see why we have to shop here." You turn to him. "There's plenty of places near The Cut we can go to. It's cheaper."

His expression is sharp, as if the suggestion disgusted him to consider. “I'm not going to The Cut for their cheap-ass clothes."

"Well we're not going here either because there's no way in hell I can afford these clothes, Rafe," you retort, crossing your arms. He said he needed to get you some new clothes because your dress was too short, and since you don’t have many options in your closet, you agreed. You just didn’t expect to file for bankruptcy in order to afford it.

You're about to walk off again, furthering the sidewalk to preview the other shops you can't afford, when Rafe grabs your arm.

"You're not paying, alright?" He asserts. "Now, get into the shop before you piss me off."

You don't move. Not with that attitude.

"What's the magic word?"

"Fuck off."

You imitate a buzzer. "Wrong."

Rafe closes into you until he's right in front of your face. "If you are trying to get me to say please, think again, sweetheart, because there's no way in hell that I'm going to beg you for this."

You aren't intimidated. Glancing down at his hands, you ask, "how's your wrists, by the way?"

He rolls his eyes, forging annoyance, before pulling you to the nearest boutique. He knew it wasn't done without some willingness on your end, that your comment satisfied some power trip, and the two of you slipped through the glass doors of a fancy establishment.

An older woman welcomes you. She asks what you were looking for and Rafe answers before you get the chance to. When the saleswoman gathered the directive, she headed off to grab a couple of dresses from the store.

Rafe requested a private room. Since they had no such thing, this agitated him. However, since the store is mostly-empty right now and no one is using the fitting room lounge, Rafe’s mood slightly lightens. Sitting on the designated waiting couch, you head into one of the fitting rooms to try on the first item.

"What is this going to be for?" You ask, tugging on the strapless dress against your braless chest.

"There's a gala next week for Cameron Development. We're going."

You hum in response, acknowledging that this isn't a spontaneous trip done out of the kindness of his heart but because of your deal. The ploy you're fronting for Ward to see Rafe as reliable. You can't help but feel a small dose of disappointment.

Glancing at the mirror for a final check, you step out to find Rafe leaning against the long cream couch with his legs spread apart.

Rafe watches as you exit from the stall, reluctance pouring into each step you take. When you stop in front of him, you stretch your arms out to let him see the full details, before dropping them mere seconds later. "Good enough?" You ask.

"Turn around." He commands with a whirl of his ringed finger, making you roll your eyes but doing as he says. He studies the back. "Try another one."

Without another word, you head back to the room to pull off another dress from the rack. It became a routine for you: trying on one, doing a little spin for Rafe to see the completed look, waiting for his decision, before returning back to your stall to repeat.

None of the dresses have been a good fit, meaning you liked them, but Rafe found enjoyment in the process. This surprised him. He always hated going shopping for Wheezie or Sarah—especially the latter—but something about going with you, making you try clothes on for him, getting his opinions, stirs something primal in him.

He had to adjust his pants on the fourth dress you tried. That one revealed too much of your ass.

Despite your initial reluctance, you were starting to have fun. You never got the chance to be this girl—the one who spends their days dressing up, acting like a princess getting ready for her first ball—and it makes you excited. A little happy. But, you'll never admit it to Rafe.

However, your options are quickly dwindling. The saleswoman had to go to the front to gather some more dresses for you. As you pull the last one off the rack, you step out of the fitting room.

"Fuck." Rafe swears under his breath, watching you come out with a new piece. A long satin dress that clings to every curve of your body, showing off every impressive inch of your cleavage while leaving more to the imagination and a high slit that cuts up mid-thigh. It might be his favorite.

It was definitely yours.

"What do you think?" You prompt timidly, the lack of outright comment about your attire made you a bit antsy for his thoughts.

“I…” Rafe trails off, his eyes lifted to find yours. “What do you think?”

"Well," you spin, demonstrating with the little twirl that Rafe always makes you do. "I like it. I think it fits me."

"Then, let's get it."

You shake your head, laughing at the idea. "It's outrageously expensive. I can't afford it in this lifetime."

His expression shifts to an unreadable one. "I said I got it."

"And I don't think that's necessary. I can take care of myself." You say, which is true. You know Rafe has money, and you know he wouldn't feel a dent in his wallet if he bought it for you. However, the idea makes you uncomfortable. Not because he was spending money, but because you're letting someone else take care of you. Have power over something you spent your entire life controlling. It feels... wrong.

His jaw locks, his words sharper than before. "I took you here, that means I pay."

"No." You stand firm, shaking your head. "It's fine. I'll just try on something more affordable."

You go back to the dressing room without allowing Rafe to get another word in and he slumps back into his seat with mounting agitation. Rubbing his tense jaw, he can't seem to understand why you won't let him do things for you.

He's capable. He has money. All of this rationalization leads to one infuriating conclusion: why the fuck do you act like he has none of that?

It's simple.

You don't trust him.

"Rafe." You call out. It pulls him out of his spiraling thoughts and he turns to the closed door of your stall. "I can't get the zipper out. Can you help me?"

He was on his feet before you finished your sentence. Knocking, he hears the soft click of the lock as he pushes the door in, stepping inside the limited space. Standing in front of the large mirror, your back is turned to him.

Glancing over your shoulders, you offer him a sheepish look, "just pull it down. I think it's stuck."

He wordlessly steps forward before grabbing a handful of your hair and pushing it to the side. His large hands descend from your neckline to the tiny zipper tucked behind the fabric.

You watch him through the mirror, his expression is hard but his eyes are completely focused on the task at hand. A small smile rises to your lips.

When he lowers the zipper down to the end of the teeth, just at the midsection of your dress, he turns back to you. "Done."

"Thank you, boyfriend." You hum with a grateful grin, holding onto the front of your dress as it started to spill over from the lack of restraint. When you turn around, you’re surprised to find Rafe remaining. "I need some privacy to change—"

"Drop your arms."

The demand startles you. "For what?"

Rafe has the strongest urge to rip off your crossed arms himself, your questions delaying him of what he deserves, but he knows you. At least, he's getting to. Even if his mind is caught in a turmoil right now and he just wants to do something to prove to himself that you bare some semblance of trust in him, he can't force you. Not when he has an inch of restraint left in him.

He wants you to be willing.

Swallowing hard, he confesses. "Because I want to see you."

You can tell it took everything in him to say that. The corner of your lips finds your smile again. "You could've asked nicely."

"That is me asking nicely."

You chuckle, your arms still guarded over your chest. His eyes glance down. "Strip."

"Is this part of the arrangement?" You tilt your head, teasing out the moment a little longer. "An inspection for your girlfriend?"

He cups the underside of your jaw, almost in a chokehold. His eyes are hard on you, his patience wearing thin. "Stop playing with me, sweetheart."

You look up to him, doe-eyed and innocent. "Remove your hand, darling."

His jaw clenches at your own command, his grip around your throat sends a pleasurable sensation straight to your core. With great reluctance, he drops it.

"Who knew you'd do well with instructions?" You grin, taking a step back, closer to the mirror. Your heart is hammering with anticipation.

"If you don't remove them in five seconds, I'm ripping them off."

Excitement stirs in you. At the way he looks at you. The way he wants you. Rafe watches as you slowly drop your arms to your side, the flimsy satin glides off your body into a puddle by your ankles.

His breathing hitch in his throat as his hungry eyes take in your naked body, complete from head to toe, saved for a pair of panties hung around your hips that he's positive won't be there in the next few minutes.

There's a palpable silence. His eyes are intense but his words are obsolete. You needed something from him, some vocalization of his thoughts. Placing a hand on your hips, you ask, "did I pass?"

"You have a fucking nipple piercing."

You laugh at the astonishment in his tone, glancing down to your full tits and seeing the metal barbells lined through your nipples. "Is it not worthy enough of a Kook?" You ask with a tease, running the pad of your thumb over the sensitive bud, biting back a moan. "Am I going to get punished?"

He groans. Having enough, Rafe steps forward and captures your lips with his. His force pushes you against the cool mirror.

"I can't fucking stand you." He murmurs, his hand traveling down to cup one breast in his palm. "You were hiding these from me? The whole fucking time?"

The way he's handling you feels so good. "Didn't know I had to share everything with you."

"You do." Rafe asserts, his fingers pinching your sensitive tip and causing your whole body to arch. "God, they're sensitive, aren't they?"

You nod, needy. His hot mouth descends and his tongue swirls around the metal bar, eliciting a whimper from you. It's very sensitive, and you steady yourself against the mirror as Rafe lowers his other hand over your hips, pushing your panties down.

Rubbing your clit with one hand, teasing you with his mouth, you can't help but build towards a climax at the double sensation.

"Do you know what you do to me?" He whispers against your bare skin, his eyes flickering up to meet your heavy-lid gaze. "Parading around in dresses all day, trying them on for me?"

You feel yourself getting closer, but you can't help but tease him. "They weren't for you—"

His hand covers your mouth, the one slick with your arousal, and the removal of his touch leaves you empty and aching. You regret it instantly. "I don't want to hear you mouth me off again. You had your fun." He warns, his expression hard and resolute. "Now, here's what we're going to do. You're going to pick up that dress, fold it neatly on that chair, and I'm going to buy it."

A protest forms in your throat, but he catches it, deepening the pressure of his palm against your mouth. "Then I'm going to fuck you against this mirror. Remind you who you're with. Is that enough instructions for you, sweetheart?"

Desperate for a finish, you nod. Rafe watches as you pick up the dress and fold the fabric over the chair, before returning back to your previous spot.

"Turn around." He commands. You face the mirror, seeing your bareness in the reflection and the eagerness on your features. "Spread your legs."

You do, obeying him, and he chuckles darkly at the sight. "God, you're so fucking obedient now, aren't you?" He taunts, his eyes flicking to your face in the reflection as his hand lands a slap against your ass. "If I told you to touch yourself right now, you'd listen, wouldn't you?"

You would. The realization makes your face burn, your arms instinctively went to cover your chest. His expression hardens. "Not so fast, sweetheart," he grabs your wrist. "Do I need to tie them up for you too? Drop them."

Your pulse sputters, you lower your arms to your side, tucked. "I knew there was a good girl in there somewhere."

"Rafe." You whimper softly, the ache between your legs becoming unbearable. "Please fuck me."

He grins at your plea, removing his slacks and briefs in one swift motion. You watch his swollen cock spring free, the tip running beads of his precum. Your mouth waters and you resist the urge to squeeze your legs together.

"You want this dick, sweetheart?" He teases, approaching you from behind. "You want me to fill that sweet, tight cunt?"

"Yes," you beg, "yes, please."

"Put your hands on the mirror." He instructs, his hand grabbing a handful of your hair, tipping your head back to meet your gaze in the reflection. "Look at yourself when I fill you."

Lining his erection against your entrance, you watch as he slowly enters your pussy from behind. The image is so gratifying and sensual. "So tight for me," he groans, a hand grabbing your hips to steady him. "Feels so fucking good."

Your eyes roll back to the back of your head as Rafe pumps in you, finding a pace, the angle from behind allowing him to hit deeper spots. You hold onto the mirror tighter, trying to contain your moans and the pleasure coursing through you.

"Look at you," he mumbles against the shell of your ear, causing you to meet his gaze through the mirror. "Taking me so fucking well."

You nod desperately, moaning at his thrusts roughly slams against your walls. "You fill me up so good."

"Just for me, right, sweetheart?" He lands a sloppy kiss against the side of your neck, to which you respond with a mewl. "My fucking girl."

Nodding, your eyes flutter at the way he rocks inside of you, your walls clenching around his length.

"Rub your tits for me." Rafe demands roughly, his pace growing more fervent as he watches your body through the reflection. You do as he says, using a hand to pinch and pull your pierced nipples between your fingertips, the sensitivity of your buds adding to the quickly-rising climax. "Fuck, I love watching you do that."

The praise unburdens something deep inside of you and your goal becomes to make him feel satisfied. Steady yourself with one hand on the mirror, your handprint greasing the clean silver, you play with your nipples further, twisting and moaning in your own pleasure. "Like that?" You ask sweetly, watching as he nods heavily, his chest sheen with a thin layer of sweat.

"Fuck." His rhythm goes faster, the sound of his balls hitting the back of your ass echoing in the empty lounge and overwhelming pleasures causing your eyes to close shut.

Rafe catches that. Pulling you into him, with your arched back pressed against his chest, he roughly grabs your throat and forces you to open them, staring right at your reflection. "You're going to watch me fuck you, sweetheart," he pants into your ear, the sight before you driving flips into your stomach. "And you're going to fucking remember this."

Your hair is a complete mess, his hand wrapped around your throat as the other gripping your hips harshly to steady his sloppier thrusts, and you're being fucked in a public dressing room and loving each second of it.

Both of your moans and his grunts echoes. Your peak rising.

"Oh, fuck," you whimper, your thighs burning from the intensity of Rafe's pumps and your position. "I think I’m going to come—"

Someone calls your name.

Rafe stills.

"Are you in there?" The old saleswoman asks, her voice soft and delicate. You know she would die of a heart attack if she looked inside this room. "I brought more dresses for you. Where did your boyfriend go?"

"I—" Rafe begins to slowly rock against your body, his smile devilish in the reflection. "I–I'm here." You choke.

"Where did your boyfriend go? Did he leave you alone?"

No, you answer in your head, but your words are muddled as Rafe quickens his pace. Not enough where you can hear the sound of your pussy squelching, but enough for you to feel the returning buzz of your orgasm.

"Answer the nice lady, sweetheart," Rafe mumbles into your ear with a smile, pushing your hair to the side, as you send him a glare. Which quickly turns into a look of ecstasy as he hits your g-spot. You slap a hand over your mouth. "Don't be rude."

You had many words for Rafe, but none of them were coming out. You could only do so much. "He's–he's fine," you declare shakily, "I think he went to—" you let out a small whimper. Rafe's hand is now rubbing your clit in unison to his penetration.

You want to kill him.

You want to come so badly.

"He went where?" She prompts sweetly.

"The bathroom!" You shout with a half-moan, Rafe chuckling as he lays kisses on your backside, against your shoulder blades, increasing his thrusts. Your walls twitching around his cock.

"We don't have a bathroom."

Rafe tsk against your burning skin, shaking his head in forged disappointment. "Bad little liar."

"I'm going to kill you," you croak. Your climax builds so fast, you're trying hard to hold it off as long as possible.

"How are you going to come, then?" He taunts through the reflection, watching the way your body rocks with each drive. Your legs are weakening. "Do you want me to stop?"

You shake your head desperately, almost to tears, gripping the mirror edge for the life of you. "Please, don't."

"Then answer her."

"Hello?" The woman calls out, her voice pitched with a slight annoyance from your lack of response. "Do you want to try on the dresses? Should I bring them to you—"

"You can just le–leave it out there!" You moan with abandon. There was no way to avoid it.

"Are you sure—"

"Go away, please!" You plead, Rafe landing a hard thrust against you and causing your knees to finally buckle. He catches your waist with one strong arm, holding you upright.

The old woman huffs at your brusqueness, her little footsteps padding across the floor and exits from the lounge. With that signal, Rafe slams into you, with harsh desperate beats, to make up for the lost time. You come within a matter of seconds.

Worn out, he holds you up for a few more pumps before he spills into you. His hot cum filling your cunt. You're catching your breath, your face is completely flushed, and Rafe holds you tightly as the both of you come down from your high.

With enough strength, you pull yourself up and lean against the mirror for support.

"That was rude of you," Rafe declares with a tease, going to grab his discarded clothes.

"I hate you." You pant, your legs wobbling from your own weight. "I hate you so much."

He chuckles, redressing himself. Watching him as he collects himself, his eyes glance over to the chair before finding your exhausted face. "Now, are you going to let me buy that dress or are we going to have to do this again?"

—

Rafe ends up buying the dress. You were no energy to argue, and when he pulls you to the register to purchase the expensive satin, the old saleswoman gives you a withering glare—either at your rude outburst or the product of your image being a clear indication of you being throughly-fucked in the dressing room—that you quickly exit the boutique.

It didn't stop at the clothes. Rafe also pulled you to a nearby jewelry store too. He got you a gold necklace; your argument was completely futile with one glance.

"The necklace was unnecessary." You complain, pulling out the gift-wrapped box in the passenger seat of his car. Rafe is driving you back to your house.

He glances at you from his peripheral vision. "You need to look the part."

"But did you have to buy the most expensive one?" You retort, glancing over to him. "There were cheaper options. There's even fake ones I saw at the end of the display."

His hand, resting on your thigh, squeezes the flesh. "You think I'll let my girl walk around with fake gold? Do you know what they'll say about me?"

"That you're financially responsible?"

He scoffs, pinching the inside of your legs. You giggle. "That I can't afford to give my girlfriend some nice things. I'm not fucking broke."

You roll your eyes, opening the box. Your fingers trace the gorgeous details of the necklace, landing on the pendant at the center. "R, huh?" You say with a tease, looking over to Rafe again.

He shrugs. "Had to let everyone know who you belong to."

You know this is a fake relationship, that this is nothing more than to keep his image clean, but you can't help but feel a buzz at the possessiveness of his words. It almost makes you feel like you’re his.

Rafe pulls up to your neighborhood and is about to pull up to your house, when you stop him. "Right here is fine," you announce, holding your hand over the clutch to make him park. He does, his brows furrowed at your abrupt reaction.

"I could drive up—"

"No, it's okay." You wave him off with a small smile, unbuckling your seat and gathering your things in the leg compartment. "The walk is good for me."

It isn't that far. It's just off the edge of your driveway, enough where it doesn't look like Rafe is coming into your house but close enough where he can see the front porch.

Grabbing your bags, you bid him a farewell. You close the door of the passenger side and rush up to your porch, Rafe waits until you make it into your house.

This is the second time you've done this. You never let him go further up your driveway. Don't let him meet you at the door. It was like you were hiding him—embarrassed of him.

His hand grips the steering wheel as he watches you ring your own doorbell, waiting a few moments before the door swings open.

And it was fucking Heyward and Maybank.

They set out to greet you, pulling you into a side hug while pointing at the bags in your hands, to which you shyly tuck behind your back to hide from them with little avail. Rafe tightens his grip against the wheel, his knuckles whitening, as he watches you step inside, closing the door—with them.

He should leave. He knows he should. That's what he promised himself he would do. But, knowing you’re in there, with two men, drives him to stay. He can't go up to your doorsteps, you wouldn't allow it, so he waited. And waited. And waited.

It was over an hour and neither Maybank or Heyward exited from your house. It drove Rafe furious. Deciding that was time, he turns off the engine and marches up to your porch, banging on the door.

You open it in a matter of seconds, afraid that you were getting raided by the cops. Your outfit had switched into a baggy tee with shorts—too fucking short, he decided—and your expression etched with surprise.

"Rafe? What–what are you doing here? I thought you left—"

"Where is he?" Rafe declares, glancing over your shoulders with tightened fists. Trying to gain control of himself before he snaps. "Where the fuck are they?"

"Who? JJ?"

"Is that it?"Rafe snaps, his anger rising in waves. "What the fuck is he doing here?"

"I...I was helping him...?" You answer hesitantly, watching his expression shift from rage to fury.

"Helping him with what? Fucking him?"

You blink back in surprise. Your words caught in your throat by his outrageous accusation that it renders you speechless. Rafe, catching it as hesitation, had enough. His last string of restraint snaps. Finally, he steps inside, forcing you in and slams the door close behind him.

He grabs you by the throat, his fingers gripping the sides, causing a pleasurable sensation to your core. "Maybe you're right," he declares lowly, his darkened gaze lowered to you. "You do need to be punished."

— part six here —

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unclewaynemunson · 7 months

Text

Alt version of this post bc too many people asked for both <3

It's Saturday night and, like almost every Saturday night, Eddie wishes he didn't have to be at some jock party. The flashing lights, the scent of cheap mixed drinks, the incredibly mediocre loud music... And worst of all, the fucking jocks. Everywhere.

'Eddie!'

He looks up to find Steve, with a dopey smile on his face, basically skipping towards him and throwing his arms around his neck. Oh. He didn't know Steve still went to parties like those. Hadn't seen him at any of them in a while. But as soon as he gets wrapped up in an enthusiastic full-body hug, he decides there's one jock, and one jock only, that he doesn't mind running into at those parties.

'Eddie, what're you doin' here?' There's an unfocused look in his eyes and he wobbles on his legs a little bit, grabbing tighter onto Eddie for support. The touch burns through Eddie's t-shirt and he tries to ignore the shiver running down his spine.

'I didn't know you liked parties!' Steve drops his voice, slurring: 'I thought you hated the jocks.'

Eddie can't help but smile. 'I hate all jocks but one, big boy,' he tells Steve. 'Not here to party, only to get some cash.' He rattles with the metal lunchbox in his hands to illustrate his point. 'Can you let me go now so I can get on with my business, pretty please?'

'Noooo,' Steve says with an exaggerated pout. 'I'm too happy you're here! Dance with me!'

Eddie chuckles. 'I don't think you're in any state to dance right now. Jesus, Stevie, I don't think I've ever seen you this wasted before. Thought you were planning to pick up a girl tonight?'

'I was,' Steve says, suddenly sounding oddly serious. 'But it doesn't matter. Just needed to forget. The rum helped, too.' He frowns. 'Til you showed up.'

'Forget what?' Eddie asks, trying to make sense of this drunken string of words.

Something happens; something that's been happening quite often lately. Steve's eyes flash downwards, just for a second, right to where Eddie's lips are.

Eddie's heartbeat involuntarily picks up speed.

'What did you need to forget, Steve?' Eddie asks again.

'Can't tell you,' Steve mumbles so softly that Eddie can barely make it out over the loud music. 'I don't wanna make you feel guilty. I'm not judging you, y'know. 'S fine.'

He abruptly lets go of Eddie and takes a step away from him, stumbling right into some girl who pushes him back with an annoyed scoff; if Eddie weren't still standing right behind him, he would've fallen on his ass for sure.

'Alright, you're not making any sense tonight, big boy, but I can't in good conscience let you stay here by yourself. How 'bout I'll drive you home?'

Eddie glances at his watch. If he hurries, he can probably still be back to do what he came here for before the good part of the party is over. He does kinda need the cash.

'Can't,' says Steve. 'Can't go home with you.' Something in his voice is breaking and suddenly there are tears in his eyes, and Eddie still doesn't understand what's wrong; he feels like he's overlooking something huge, something that should be obvious.

'Let's just go outside to talk, then?' he suggests.

'Can't. Dance with me, Eddie.'

But when Eddie starts gently tugging Steve towards the open door leading to the garden, Steve easily lets himself be led outside. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath when the cool night air reaches his lungs, as if one gulp of fresh air will instantly make him sober up. But he's still swaying on his feet, making Eddie grab onto him tighter.

Eddie likes to think of himself as moderately strong, but unfortunately, hauling 180 pounds of muscled jock around is starting to take its toll on him. He spots a bench in a secluded corner of the garden and guides Steve towards it.

'This better?' he asks.

'Yeah,' Steve breathes out. Even now that they're both sitting down, Steve keeps clinging onto him. 'Look at the stars, Eddie.'

Eddie looks up at the scattering of lights twinkling far above them - but he can feel Steve's eyes still burning into his face.

When he directs his gaze back to the guy sitting next to him, Steve's face is even closer than before. The starlight is reflected in his hazy eyes, tiny specks of silver hidden in various shades of brown and black.

'I wish I could kiss you,' Steve whispers, looking at Eddie with nothing but admiration behind that glassy drunk gaze.

Eddie almost forgets to breathe. He knows that it seemed like he and Steve were headed exactly toward something like this for a while now, but he still can hardly believe that it is real. That Steve Harrington is really looking at him like he's just as precious as the stars in the sky above them.

He brings up a hand, gently caresses Steve's soft cheek.

'Maybe you don't have to wish,' he whispers back, unable to stop his eyes from flashing towards Steve's beautiful lips for a moment. 'Tomorrow. When you're not drunk anymore. If you still remember this.'

'No.' Steve shakes his head, so fiercely it makes his hair flap in all directions and his complexion at least two shades paler. 'Can't.'

'Why do you keep saying that, Steve?' Eddie asks softly.

'Cause.' For a moment Eddie thinks Steve is gonna grab his ass, but then... he randomly frees Eddie's handkerchief – the one with the skulls – from his back pocket.

'Cause of the Russians.'

Eddie can only stare at him in confusion.

'They tied me up,' Steve all but whispers. Eddie hates how small and broken his voice suddenly sounds.

He has always known – broadly speaking – about what happened to Steve and Robin miles beneath Starcourt last year. He's never actually heard Steve talk about the details, though. All he knows is that he and Robin were captured by Russian spies and somehow made it out alive. He could always see how difficult it was for Steve to talk about it whenever it came up, but he never wanted to pry. And now here they are, at some goddamn high school jock party of all places, and all of a sudden Steve willingly brings it up.

'I was with Robin,' Steve continues, still in that scared and broken voice. 'And they tied us to a chair. We couldn't move. And they – they hurt me. They hit me. 'Til I was bleeding all over. I thought I was gonna die. Robin thought I was dead.'

'Jesus Christ, Steve,' Eddie breathes out, tightening his grip around Steve's torso.

'So I can't,' Steve mumbles, holding up Eddie's handkerchief as if it's some kind of logical explanation for whatever it is he's trying to tell Eddie.

'Wh- What?'

'I know what it means, Eddie,' he says, as if he's even remotely making sense right now. 'You know John?'

'Who the hell is John?' Eddie only keeps finding himself more and more lost in this conversation.

'My cousin,' Steve says, like it's obvious, like he's ever talked about some cousin named John to Eddie before. 'The one in New York. He knows all about that shit, right? He sends me the good magazines sometimes when my parents aren't home. That's how I know.'

'Know what?'

Steve only waves around with that stupid handkerchief again.

'You're flagging, aren't ya? You like pain. Like BS... BM...'

Eddie feels his jaw drop.

'What the fuck are you talking about?' he asks. 'It's – this is a metal thing. It looks metal. I literally have no idea what you're – flagging?'

Now Steve's face finally mirrors the confusion Eddie has been feeling for the past ten minutes.

'Are you serious?' he asks, for one second showing more clarity in his eyes than Eddie has seen all evening.

Eddie nods.

'So it's not...' Steve stops himself, swallows, frowns. 'You're not into, like, hurting people and shit?'

And finally, it all clicks together in Eddie's mind: the repeated chorus of I can't, the story about the Russians, the goddamn handkerchief... Flagging. BDSM.

'Why the hell would I get off on hurting you, Steve?' is all he can get out of his mouth.

And Steve honest-to-Satan starts giggling; it sounds so relieved that Eddie kinda feels like giggling too, scary metal image be damned.

'I dunno, it's more common than you think,' Steve mumbles. 'I wouldn't judge you, alright? But I knew I could never give you that. No matter how much I like you. And then you'd get bored of me.'

'Oh, Steve,' Eddie whispers out. 'You don't need to worry 'bout that, I swear. For all I care, we can have the most vanilla sex in the world forever. Or never have sex at all. As long as it's with you... I'm good.' Eddie cringes as soon as the words leave his mouth: it sounds too cheesy, too sincere. He kinda hopes Steve will have forgotten this particular part of their conversation tomorrow morning.

But Steve doesn't look at him like he thinks it's stupid at all: his eyes are wide and he's smiling a soft smile.

'You sure? You won't get bored?'

Eddie chuckles. Now that he's being too goddamn cheesy anyway, he might as well double down on it. 'I can't imagine getting bored of getting to hold this body in a million fucking years. In any way you'll have me.'

Steve heaves out a relieved sigh before he buries his head against Eddie's chest.

'Can I bring you home, now?' Eddie asks.

There's a twinkle in Steve's eyes when he lifts his head again.

'Ooohhh... You wanna have the most vanilla sex in the world with me now?'

A chortle escapes Eddie's lungs.

'Um, maybe tomorrow, when you're not drunk off your ass,' he answers with a wink. 'For tonight, just lemme get you to bed, 'kay?'

'Okay, big boy,' Steve answers, and Eddie can't help but laugh before he presses a kiss against Steve's forehead.

#don't mind me rambling about stranger things #thought i'd finally put in my own 2 cents about them hanky debate #if you even care #seriously have fun with your hc's however you like but #let's address the trauma here alright #(and let them have the most boring vanilla sex forever i guess)#can you tell i'm in my soft steddie era?#I JUST NEED THEM TO BE SOFT GODDAMNIT #maybe it's my own yearning but LET THEM BE SOFT #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #fanfic #fruity ficlet #tw alcohol

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beggars-opera · 10 months

Text

Ok, so I live in one of the more liberal areas of the country. Our governor is a lesbian and I literally did not even know until after she got elected, because it was that much of a nonissue.

Lately, I'm seeing more and more local institutions doing things for Pride. Institutions that don't necessarily have to, or do so awkwardly, but they're trying to be good allies. And, even here, I see people foaming at the mouth. This thing is ruined. Unprofessional. Political. Sexual. Boycotting, disgusted, bye.

And a part of me is like, "Why would a random store, a museum, a restaurant, do this?" Part of my mind has been so corrupted by the idea of rainbow capitalism that the thought of someone just...trying to be an imperfect ally is a cash grab.

It's not. Every bit counts, and especially as we see pushback, and see some of those corporations beginning to rethink their rainbow capitalism, the places that continue to speak up are so, so important.

I'm reminded of a rant by Illustrious Old White Man Historian Gordon Wood a few years back where he lamented how fragmented modern history is. Why do we need ANOTHER book about women, about enslaved people, about the poor? Why are we focusing on these people instead of George Mount Rushmore Washington?

And it was an interesting framing, because he insinuated that these micro histories were bad not because they existed, but because they didn't give the whole story, which in Gordon's mind was a story in which they were the side characters instead of the mains. To that end a biography of G Wash that features the bare shadow of Billy Lee in the far distance is a complete history, all that needs to be said, because one of those figures is a God Amongst Men and the other does not deserve to be fully fleshed out as a full, autonomous human being with a family and a profession and a beating heart. And a biography of William Lee, war aid, professional valet, and person closest to the first president of the United States, with the shadow of George in the background, would consequently be Bad History, because no one is saying that this man didn't exist, but his story isn't the whole story. It's backwards; he should be a footnote, and if he's not, that's bias.

But for me, as a historian, I know that the reason these microhistories exist, and are so important, is that they didn't exist before. Before someone can be truly, purposefully, tactfully inserted into the historical narrative, you need to know who they are. Not just as a name, not just as an archetype. You have to get to the point where there are so many books flooding the market about women and children and immigrants that it's no longer controversial to be talking about them, where learning about them instead of someone else is normal.

THEN you can feel good about rewriting the more general narrative. THEN you can actually have the information you need in order to put things into their proper context, to rethink the most important figure in each story, to assess what the full milieu of the time is.

And that's where we're at with Pride. We are still very much living in a time where queer people are shadow characters in the background. They are people that many will admit exist, but for god's sake, don't make them important, don't make them real, don't make them normal. And until we can shove rainbows down everyone's throats to the point where being queer is no longer seen as a thing that is Other, until we convince people that we're not going away, we will never be able to fully assimilate queerness into society.

We can't just be normal about Pride, because normal isn't loud enough to not get drowned out.

#lgbtq #pride #history #oops I had an opinion

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puppykento · 1 month

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nyxie poo.... can i request real dad toji please..... you write him so deliciously it makes my toes curl. i love you btw x

a/n: winky !! the loml being my first request omg. i love you more xxx. (i got a bit carried away this is like... a little long for a drabble. oops?)

cw: 18+ content, fem!reader, daddy-daugher incest, dub-con, cam girl reader, p in v, creampie, some slut shaming, spitting, squirting

Toji is no saint - but he's never pretended to be. He should never have been in your room in the first place, but you kept getting all of this money from god-knows-where, and he had a debt to pay. He had every intention to pay you back (eventually), but he just needed a little cash to tide him over until his next job.

The last thing he expected was to see the tab you left open on your computer. He'd only bumped the mouse trying to search through some of the shit on the top of your desk, only for a site that he was fairly familiar with to come up. That didn't mean he expected to see you on the screen, baring your pussy to the world. Your face wasn't in it, sure, but he hasn't reached that level of 'absent father' not the recognise the bedroom he's literally standing in, so... that was definitely his kid there.

That should have been the end of the whole situation. He should have hastily retreated out of your room while pretending he never saw anything. Should've and would've are two very different things, and before Toji can even register what he's doing, he's sat at your desk and pressing play.

He should feel guilty when he rubs himself raw watching his daughter play with her pretty pussy, but he can hardly feel bad when the sounds coming from your PC are so fucking hot. He stifles a groan as his cum shoots all over his shirt and hand, a frown coming to his face. Shit. He hadn't cum that quickly since he was a teenager.

He stands up quickly and clicks out of the page, making his way to the bathroom to clean up. Looks like he'd have to have a little chat with you later.

˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗

"So, I was in your room earlier." He says as you return home, walking over to join you on the couch. No response. Fucking typical. "Hey, brat. I'm talkin' to you."

"Yeah, I heard. Just trying to figure out how you thought you had any business going into my room." You reply, your brows furrowing as you look at him.

"You always gotta be such a bitch? Shit. I'm tryna have a talk with ya. You're my kid." He bites out, his eyes narrowing as he looks at you. You just glower at him, not bothering to reply once again. He lets out an irritated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Found your dirty tapes. Think daddy wouldn't start wondering where all your cash came from?"

That manages to get a reaction from you. You look cute like that - your eyes all wide as you gape at him. A smirk tugs at his lips as he leans forward, invading every inch of your personal space. "What? You didn't think your daddy'd find out, huh? Knew I raised a pretty girl, but I didn't think I'd raised such a slut."

"You had no right to-"

"Ah! That's where you're wrong, baby. See, you been hidin' all this money from daddy while he's been slavin' away to make sure you got a roof over your head. Been shovin' those cute little fingers in that cute cunt of yours when daddy coulda been doin' it for you this whole time and takin' a cut."

"Dad, what the fuck are you talking about?" You snap, heat building in your face as he lowers his head slightly, his gaze trailing along your body. He doesn't say anything in reply, instead choosing to grab a fistful of your hair to pull you into a searing kiss.

His lips are greedy and unrelenting, prying yours open enough to push his tongue into your mouth. Your brows furrow as you squeeze your eyes shut, letting him take control of the kiss as your body goes rigid. His hand slides lower until his thumb grazes against your clothed clit, instantly causing the tension to dissolve from your body. He chuckles as you moan into his mouth, rubbing circles with his thumb as he presses you back against the couch.

"Shit. I really did raise a fuckin' whore. Look at ya, spreading your legs for your own daddy after one kiss." He says as he pulls away from the kiss, a cocky smile spreading across his face. "Gonna fuck that slutty cunt, baby. First time's just gonna be for daddy's eyes, but I'll get ya creaming my cock on that camera soon enough."

His lips smash against yours once more, his tongue sliding into your mouth with ease. He fumbles with your clothes, only pulling away from the kiss when necessary until he has you naked. He's not patient enough to undress himself, so he settles for just reaching into his trousers and pulling his cock out. It sits heavily on your thigh, twitching as he kisses his way down your neck.

"Bet you got an easy pussy." He growls, nipping at the skin of your throat. He forces two fingers past your entrace, making your breath hitch. "Wouldn't be surprised if I could slip right in without stretchin' her open."

"Daddy, m'not easy-" Toji curls his fingers just as you try to defend yourself, pressing them against that gummy spot that has you mewling for him and arching your back. He pulls his fingers out, his eyes lowering to watch the way that your hole clenches on air, desperately waiting for something to fill it up.

"Didn't fuckin' ask." He grunts, slapping his cock against your clit until he has you squirming and pleading for him to put it in. "You're just gonna shut up 'n take it."

He presses his thumb down on the head of his cock, gritting his teeth as it catches your entrance. With a deep groan, he presses forward, his thick girth slowly stretching you open. "Fuuuuck. Needy pussy suckin' me right in. Surprised she's so tight, baby. The shit you been recording, I thought you'd be loose."

Toji could barely breath with the way you clenched around him as he bottomed out, his hips flush with the back of your thighs. "Takin' me so fuckin' well, sweetheart. Shame that slutty pussy opened up for other guys, hmm? Daddy woulda loved to be the one to break 'er in."

After a few seconds of stillness to allow you to adjust, he's pulling back until his tip is just ghosting your entrance before he thrusts back in harshly, his cock bullying your cervix and forcing a choked out groan from you. He presses his forehead against yours in what is possibly the most tender gesture your dad's ever given you before he starts pounding you into the cushions of the sofa.

You look so pretty with your legs spread wide for him, the sweetest moans spilling past your lips with every moan. Toji fucked you like his life depended on it, rutting into your cunt desperately. Your lips part, and in a hazy moment where Toji can barely remember his own name, he can't help but lean down and spit directly into your mouth.

"Shit, that's... that's fuckin' hot, Christ." He forces out through gritted teeth as you swallow it on instinct, his thrusts almost violent, the sounds of skin slapping against skin filling the room each time his hips smack against your thighs. "M'close, baby. Y'gotta cum for me, yeah?"

He spits again, this time directly onto your pussy, two fingers coming down to rub his saliva into your clit. Barely takes any time at all before you're arching off the couch, your eyes rolling back into your head as you tighten around his length, gushing all over him. His hips falter for a moment at just how much cum floods him - his hand and stomach getting coated in your release.

"Atta. Fucking. Girl." He grunts, punctuating each word with a particularly deep thrust, his eyes locked onto his shimmering cock as it disappears over and over again in your tight cunt. "Didn't see ya squirt like that in the video. Saved it just for daddy, hmm?"

His thrusts get more sloppy and desperate, his eyes squeezing shut as he lets out a loud groan, his hands moving to grip your hips tight enough they feel like they might bruise. He buries himself to the hilt, letting out a guttural moan as he spills deep inside of you, his cock kicking as he fills you up with rope after rope of cum.

He relishes in the way you whimper at the feeling, at how good you feel squeezing his dick so tight. His thighs tremble as he pulls out, flopping back onto the couch with a groan. He's never met a girl that had taken his breath away like that. Feels like your pussy was made just for him.

"Fuck, baby. No wonder you make bank on those videos." He says after a moment, running a hand through his sweaty hair. He shoots you a grin as he looks at you, his eyes shining with mischief. "You gonna let daddy star in the next one?"

#nyx drabbles☆#requests☆#toji♡#jjk smut #jjk x reader #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x you #toji smut #jjk toji #tw dark content

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whorekneecentral · 6 months

Text

Cocoa

Pierre Gasly x Fem!Reader

Warnings: soft boyfriend!pierre, reader is insistent on this one thing, the couch is getting some action, thigh riding, penetrative sex (P in V), choking.

Word Count: 1,638

Author's Note: don't get upset, pierre lowkey gives me the ick so this is my public serve act of the month - writing him :)

merry smutmas series

You have your boyfriend drive all around the city until you find the one thing you were looking for. When you finally find it, you decide you want something else.

The noise pulls him away from the simulator, Pierre could hear your grumbling as he made his way to the kitchen. "Mon amour, que se passe-t-il ? Qu'est-ce que tu cherches?" (My love, what's going on? What are you looking for?) He asked as he leant on the wall, arms folded over his chest.

Your back was to the man, "I'm fine." You tell him, sitting on the counter as you dug through the cupboards.

"Is something missing?" He walks over, standing by the counter as he watches you shuffle things around.

"I had this cocoa powder," you shut the door, shifting on the cold marble to face him. "It was in a red tin, I can't remember the name of it but I swear I left it in there."

Pierre's brows furrow, head tilted to the side. "You're sure you left it in there? And you didn't use it all?"

"No, I know I left it in there." You tell him, hopping off of the counter. Your boyfriend shrugs, "I could take you to the store to look some more, if you wanted."

"Okay," you nodded, "let's go."

He looks over at you, watching as you grab your coat. "Oh, now?" He points to the door and you nod, "yeah, come on."

Pierre smiles, shaking his head as he grabs his own coat and his car keys. Only you'd have him running around to look for cocoa powder. Knowing you, it had to be the specific brand you were looking for otherwise you wouldn't buy it.

You were particular like that - part of why Pierre loved you so much.

There you were, walking up and down every single aisle in the store, Pierre following behind you with the shopping cart. You had yet to find what you were looking for but your boyfriend managed to fill the cart up halfway with some bits and pieces he needed.

You were in the aisle with coffee, tea and other things like that. "What was it called again?" He asked, looking up and down the shelves.

"I have no idea," you admit, scanning the shelves for a red tin. Pierre hums, picking up something red. "Was it this?" He shows you, leaning on the handle of the shopping cart.

Looking over, you reach for the tin to get a better look at it. You read the label, looking at the picture. "No," you shook your head, "but I remember it had a picture of a reindeer on it, with some trees or something like that."

Pierre nods, "okay." He takes the tin from you, putting it back on the shelf. You look around some more and Pierre follows you into another aisle before you eventually call it quits and cash out.

Despite not finding the cocoa powder, you still ended up with a trunk full of stuff.

You two checked a few other stores, making your way from one end of the city to the other and you still did not find the thing you were looking for. You had gone as far as googling 'hot cocoa powder with reindeer and trees on packaging', scouring amazon, asking the workers in the store and no one had any idea what you meant or what you were looking for.

After coming out of the last store, you get back into the car - exhausted and you have given up. "Do you want to check anywhere else?" He asked you, looking over to you and you shook your head.

"I give up, Pierre." You sigh, making him chuckle. "But can you stop at the corner shop? I want a Red Bull.. oh and a Kit Kat."

Pierre smiles, "sure, love."

The man drives you towards the corner store, parking right outside before running into the store to pick up what you wanted. He returns a few minutes later, putting the bag into the back with the rest of the stuff before you head home.

Pierre brings the stuff into the house and you unpack it; that had been your deal since you moved in.

You find yourself putting away the stuff from the store, putting whatever had to go into the fridge, into the fridge before putting the rest of the stuff where it needed to go. There's one bag left, the one from the corner store.

Opening it, you take out the Kit Kat and then the Red Bull, but there's something else in the bag. A red tin with a picture of a reindeer in front of some trees.

It was the hot cocoa powder you were looking for.

You set the tin on the counter, running into the living room towards your boyfriend who sat on the couch. Pierre's caught off guard when you jump on him, sending him back on the couch. The man laughs, his arms around you as you sit on top of him.

"You found it!" You smile at him. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Figured I'd surprise you." He smiles, rubbing your hip. "I take it, it's the right one?"

"Yeah," you nod, leaning down to kiss him. Your hand rests on his jaw, Pierre's other hand finds your lower back, pulling you flat against him. His head tilts to the side when he feels your lips moving down to his neck.

"Wait," he says, pulling you back a bit. "Don't you want the hot-"

"I'm loving on you and you're stopping me to ask about hot chocolate?" You laughed, looking at your boyfriend like he was crazy.

He nods, "yeah you're right, that's wrong of me. Sorry." The man laughs, pulling you back in for a kiss.

His hands find your hips and you shift onto his thigh. He lifts his leg, the sudden change causes you to slide forward, rubbing against the fabric under you.

You rocked back and forth on his thigh as he kissed you, the two of you only separating for a moment to take your shirt off. Your hands made quick work on undoing the zipper on his hoodie, giving up halfway and pulling on it until he managed to take it off.

The sound that left your mouth was like heaven on earth to him.

Pierre smiles, looking up at you sitting on his thigh. “What was that?” He teased and you shrug, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Your cheeks are red as you look away.

His eyes fixed on you, his hands guide you back and forth, slowly moving you faster with each push and pull. “So pretty,” he coos, pushing your hair back off your shoulders.

You nod, pushing down on his thigh a little harder. Your hands on his shoulder, nails digging into the back of them. That was gonna leave a mark.

Pierre flips you two over so you're laying on your back, under him. You look up at him, confused. “Wha- why’d you stop?”

Your boyfriend pulls your leggings off, tossing it behind him somewhere and you giggle. "Oh," you look at him, watching him as he pushes his own pants down.

Your legs are up on his shoulders when the man leans down to kiss you, pushing into you. Your hips jut towards him, body betraying you. His arm wrapped around your legs, holding them in place when he pushes in a little more, letting you take all of him.

Pierre can already feel you clench around him, “relax,” he tells you, a hand rubbing your thigh.

You nod, chest rising and falling with each passing second, your boyfriend's hips dug into the back of your thighs. He watches as your face twists in pleasure, your own hand wrapped around his bicep and your nails dig into him.

"God-" you cut yourself off with a moan, the tip of his cock brushing against the one spot you really wanted it too. "That, do that again." You looked up at him and Pierre was certain he wasn't going to last much longer.

Hair framing your face, the light reflecting off of your skin, the way your back arched and your chest pressed to his.

Pierre thought he had died and gone to heaven; you were an angel on earth.

He leans down to kiss you again, muffling your moans in the process. His lips against yours when he speaks; "just like that baby, c'mon."

“Gonna cum-” you barely get out between strangled moans. Pierre moves one of his hands, letting it wrap around your throat.

You were so close, on the edge of cumming. His hand slips between the two of you, thumb pressing your clit, rubbing on it and his thrusts were the same as before

Your hand wraps around his wrist, he squeezes at your neck a little harder, your legs dropping from his shoulders to back around his waist. Between him fucking you and his fingers on your clit; you were seeing stars right now, vision blurry and your head tossed back, his name fell from your lips like a prayer.

Pierre laid flat against you now, his face buried in your neck. Your hand rubbing along his bare, skin sticky and warm. "Babe," you whispered, the man moving around a bit.

"Hm?"

"Can you go warm up some milk for me?" You asked and Pierre laughs, his chest vibrating against yours. "Yeah, baby. Sure." He gets up, putting his boxers on before walking to the kitchen.

You watch from the couch, smiling to yourself as he fills a pot with some milk and sets it on the stove. Wrapping the throw blanket around yourself, you walk to the kitchen and hug your boyfriend from the side. He leans, his arm wrapped around you when he kisses your head.

"You're the best," you tell him, smiling at him. "I know," he says and you laugh, smacking him on the side.

taglist: @nosugarallspice @evieepepi08 @mimithepooh @koufaxx @dannyramirezwife-simpaccount @topguncultleader @molliemoo3 @aisharmi @mamako23 @ac3may @lewislcver @miahgonzalez16 @books-and-netflix-pls @wibi96 @bwddermilch @pedrisgatorade @clarasenchant @sainzluvrr // @forza55 @norrisleclercf1 @allalngthewtchtower @therealcap @burningcupcakefire @stargirl36 @brettlorenzi3 @guiseppetsunoda @magnummagnussen @flippingmyshit @savrose129 @lovelytsunoda @irda12-blog @dhhdhsiavdhaj @slytheringirlthatkillpeople @f1lovers22 @toomuchdelusion @eviethetheatrefreak @faye2029 @lillians-world-is-f1 @chalando1604 @lenaxwbr @im-obsessed @potashiuhm @lcxlerc16 @enjoythebutterflies3 @lillyfootballsworld @micksmidnights @mashtonbunny @chrlsleclerc @logischeroktopus

#pierre gasly #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly smut #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 smut #merry smutmas xoxo

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eyesxxyou · 4 months

Text

❝ teddy ❞ hobie brown x gn!reader

❝ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ❞ teddy bear humping, teasing, humiliation, penetrative sex

Hobie’s off doing Spider-Man stuff more often than not, it’s just a part of the job, as difficult as it is, but you’d grown to accept it. You miss him, a lot, but there are ways to get around that when he just simply can't be there to hold you the way you need him to.

You have a secret teddy bear you sleep with at night. It’s a huge thing, about half your size, dark brown, and fluffy. You had dressed it up just like Hobie, piercings and all, called it his name, misted it with his cologne, and pretended it was him at night when you cuddled with it. It was a shameful little thing. You kept it from Hobie, knowing he would tease you relentlessly for it if he ever found out about it.

It was your mistake falling asleep with it. You hadn't meant to. The faded cologne that clung to its fur and clothes made it so easy to drift away into slumber. You felt safe and safe meant sleepy.

Hobie had a habit of coming to your flat after a night of patrol, just as the sun would crest over the horizon. He’s come, crawl into bed with you, and sleep with a snore that could wake the dead.

That didn't happen this time because you had so blissfully forgotten bear Hobie on the bed and fallen asleep in your wait for Hobie Hobie to come back and sleep throughout the day with you.

You awake to a deep, guttural chuckle, eyes fluttering to open as your hazy vision cleared and saw Hobie standing over your bed, staring at bear Hobie with a grin on his dark, beautiful lips. “Wha's this then?” He motioned to the clear replica of himself in bear form you were all cuddled up with.

You scrambled up in bed, you eyes flickering between your two Hobies. “I- I uhm…”

“Do ya hump it?” He asked, such a Hobie thing to ask, tossing it back down on the bed in front of you. His lips curled when you didn't respond, cashing your eyes away from him with your fingers fiddled aimlessly with each other. “My fuckin’ days, ya do.” He laughed again, thoroughly amused by the situation and your utter embarrassment.

Hobie grabbed the bear, picked it up under its armpits and lifted it to examine it. “This me?” He asked as if the answer wasn't obvious. He wanted to hear you say it, say that you have a bear replica of him just to further your humiliation. Your face heated with embarrassment as you nod once. “Yeah…”

Hobie was silent for a moment, staring at it. A sick thought entered his head.

“Go ‘head, show me then. I wanna see.”

Before you know it, Hobie has you naked and on top of bear Hobie, straddling the thing that looks so innocently up at you. He’s behind you, large, rough hands on your hips to guide your motions as you rut your hips on rough fabric of bear Hobie's pants.

You moan softly as Hobie’s hands grope at your body, your hips shuddering against the rough fabric of your favorite teddy. Your back arches, body rolling while Hobie kissed at the shell of your ear and whispered soft obscenities to you.

“Ya think ‘e can do better than me?” He pushes your hips forward and back, forward and back, your leaking out all over the poor thing, ruining the fabric you would inevitably have to wash later as you always did. “Hm? Does ‘e make ya moan louder than me?”

You whimpered, craning your head around to look at him only for Hobie to spank you softly on the soft flesh of your ass. “Don' look at me, look at Hobie, doll.” He makes your hump and rut and fuck against your precious companion, all for his greedy eyes to take in and enjoy.

You’re cries are soft with humiliation, fingers gripping the soft plush of the teddy to keep it still beneath you while you fuck yourself against it. Hobie chuckles in your ear. “Fuckin’ pathetic, really.”

And when you cum, you make a mess of the thing, leaving your poor Hobie and wet and sticky with cum. Its face remains unchanged, just as innocent as before.

You’re forced to stare at it as Hobie gets you on all fours on top of it and eases his cock into you. You’re made to kiss it’s nose and tell it you love it while Hobie fucks himself into your pretty little hole. His cock slides against that sweet spot that makes your body shudder with the throes of another quick, shivering orgasm.

“Look at Hobie, luv. Look a’cha favorite lil’ boyfriend.”

#across the spiderverse #atsv #spiderman atsv #spiderman #hobie brown #hobie brown my love #hobie brown x gn!reader #hobie brown smut #hobie smut #astv hobie smut #{drabble}

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hongcherry · 4 months

Text

you're my tomorrow | j.ww

At first, you didn't think anything of it. Jeon Wonwoo was just a customer. However, his daily visits to your bookstore café started to become the highlight of your days. The little conversations here and there made you happy. It's because of him that you always look forward to tomorrow.

☕️ Pairing: customer!Wonwoo x cafeOwner!Reader

☕️ Rating/Genres/AUs: PG; Fluff with a sprinkle of angst, slice of life; Strangers to lovers, cafe au, non!idol au

☕️ Warnings: Reader is smaller than Wonu, ultra soft boi and supportive wonu *swoons*... can't think of anything else but ofc lmk otherwise

☕️ Word Count: 5k

☕️ Author's Note: Thank you to @justsomekpopstuff for giving me this plot idea! I def got carried away and wrote way more than I thought I would lol. I hope you enjoy it! Everyone thank JJ for the storyline ✨ Also, thank you Jess (@the-boy-meets-evil) for beta'ing and giving me amazing suggestions for some edits! 💗

Happy holidays to all (if you celebrate)! Stay safe and have a nice time 💖

seventeen masterlist | main masterlist

Monday

When the door chimes a little after eight at night, you know it’s him.

He strolls in, usual glasses perched on his nose and jacket layered with a few specks of snow. His hair isn’t styled, soft waves adorning his head. He looks like the average person who’s winding down from a long day at work. From the two and a half months you’ve known him, this is his usual state on Monday nights.

Wonwoo entered your cozy bookstore café nearly three months ago. His order rarely varies, and sometimes he orders a drink he could get anywhere else. Yet, for some reason, he always comes here.

And throughout those months, you’ve realized you always look forward to his presence.

“Busy evening?” he asks while stepping up to the counter.

You’re in the middle of packing a pastry for another customer and quickly hand off the bag to your coworker.

“More so than usual; it’s finals week,” you reply with a small smile.

Wonwoo glances around, nodding as he takes in the sight of many tables occupied by people with textbooks, laptops, and notes scattered around them.

“I don’t miss those days,” he chuckles.

“I don’t either,” you agree. “So, what can I get you today?”

Wonwoo peers up at the menu behind you. You wonder why he does so since he usually rotates between three drinks.

“A hot chocolate,” he replies.

“Oh?” You can’t hide your surprise.

He grins, tilting his head slightly. “Should I have ordered something else?”

“No!” you hastily say. “You can order whatever you want.”

He pulls out a bill that exceeds the cost of the order and slides it to your side of the counter.

“Just thought I’d try something new for the holidays,” he explains, then leaves to find a seat.

“Wait!” you call out, bill in your hand. “You paid too much!”

If Wonwoo can hear you, he pretends he doesn’t. He continues his journey and ends up in the corner next to a window by the bookshelves. He retrieves a book from his bag, opening it where his bookmark rests.

Your hand falls to the counter with a heavy sigh. You guess you’ll give him his change when you give him his order. Normally, you’d call customer’s names or numbers for pick-up. But Wonwoo is different.

Wonwoo’s one of the rare customers who gets his order hand-delivered.

After completing the transaction in the system and making his drink, you grab his change from the register and walk to his table.

“One hot chocolate,” you announce and set the cup down along with his change.

“I’ll take the drink,” he says and brings it closer, blatantly ignoring the cash next to it.

“Wonwoo,” you say.

“Yn,” he answers, eyes flickering up.

There’s a small smirk on his lips that makes your insides churn.

“You overpaid,” you simply state.

“So?”

You move his money closer. “So, take it back.”

Wonwoo slides the money back to you. “Consider it a tip.”

“You know we don’t take tips here,” you say, moving it again.

“You should. You all work hard.”

“People are already struggling as is. If they can find solace in a little place like this, that’s all that matters.”

Wonwoo rests his hands on top of yours, which is still on the money, and slides it back to you.

“Then consider it a holiday present. From me to you,” he smiles.

His hand feels warm on yours. Your eyes move down, but you wish you hadn’t.

His large hand nearly covers yours, making you feel small yet protected. You can tell from his build that he’s strong and fit. You wonder what it’d be like to get a hug from him.

“I—” you struggle to speak.

“It’d make me happy.”

You sigh, nodding hesitantly.

He slowly removes his hand. “Thank you.”

“N-No problem,” you say, gathering the change and pocketing it. “Enjoy your book and drink.”

“Thanks,” Wonwoo replies and picks up his book. He holds it up with one hand and uses the other to sip his hot chocolate.

You make your way back to the front, trying to ignore the lingering warmth on your hand and the feeling in your chest.

Tuesday

Wonwoo shows up at the same time but orders one of his usual drinks. It's a different book than yesterday and judging by the similar cover, it's probably the next one in the series.

Ever since Wonwoo “gifted” you money, you’ve been trying to think of something to get him. It’s a little tough considering you don’t actually know him. You know he works a duty-heavy job and that he lives nearby. You know he has a lot of friends despite him being so quiet. Although you’ve never seen Wonwoo and his friends in the same room, they often come with him to the café in duos or trios.

You also learned he’s an avid cat and gaming lover.

You were surprised about the latter.

“Is he also a student?” one of your new coworkers, Sebastian, asks thirty minutes after Wonwoo’s arrival.

You wipe off the cup in your hand and set it on the counter, calling the number associated with it.

“No, he graduated already,” you reply and watch him practice making a drink.

“You seem to know him. Are you two friends?” he wonders.

You lean against the counter. “I don’t think so. He’s just a regular here, so I’ve learned a few things here and there.”

“Ah,” he replies and hands you the finished drink.

You take the drink and start taking a sip to see how well he did.

“You should ask him out.”

You choke on the drink, eyes wide as you reach for a napkin to wipe your chin.

“T-That wouldn’t be appropriate,” you stammer.

He laughs and takes the drink from you. “He’s not working here, and it’s not like you’re paying for him to come by. I don’t see how it’s inappropriate.”

You sigh, knowing he has a point. It’s not that you’re not attracted to Wonwoo, but it feels almost out of line. Plus, you’re not sure if you like Wonwoo, or just like the thought of him. You haven’t been in a relationship in years and would be lying to say you don’t miss having a partner.

You miss being able to share life memories with someone.

Wonwoo’s handsome. He’s kind, funny, caring, and fit—not that that’s a big deciding factor, but it sure is a bonus. Though, do you just want someone with those attributes, or do you want him?

“Just think about it,” Sebastian suggests and greets a new customer.

Your eyes drop to your feet in thought.

Part of you worries you’d make it awkward if he says no. It’s not like you are friends, so you won’t be ruining a friendship, but you enjoy seeing his face every day. His simple presence is one of the highlights of your days.

Plus, you don’t even know if he has a partner already!

You groan, putting a hand over your forehead as you try to organize your thoughts.

“Bad night?” a familiar voice asks from over the counter.

You drop your hand to see who it is.

Wonwoo stands with his empty cup and saucer, book tucked under his arm.

“Ah, uh, not really,” you reply sheepishly. You can’t disclose the true reason for your state; you’ve never been the best liar either.

“Well, I hope whatever is troubling you passes soon,” he says and holds out his dirty dishes.

“You could’ve left them on the table,” you say, grabbing them from his grasp. Your fingers touch his, and it’s difficult not to feel like a silly teenager in the movies, especially with your current predicament.

“I know,” he smiles, “but I wanted to tell you bye, and you seem busy.”

You set the items in the sink before addressing him again. “Still… But thank you anyway.”

“The drink was great, as always.”

“Thanks.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” he says, slowly stepping away from the counter.

You smile, nodding. “See you.”

His eyes linger on you before he turns and exits your café.

Wednesday

Wonwoo comes and goes as usual. It’s a busy night and you’re unable to speak to him much. It’s not the first time that has happened, so he doesn’t seem bothered by the lack of interaction. Regardless, you wish you could’ve spoken to him more.

That night was spent browsing the internet for the perfect gift for Wonwoo.

From gaming headsets to the top-rated books on Goodreads, you felt like you scoured every possible present for him. But none of them satisfied you.

It wasn’t until you came across bookmarks in your recommended section that you decided what to get him.

Maybe a bookmark was too boring, but you figured it was the safer option.

You spend over an hour searching for the right bookmark, but again, you come up short. They’re either too flowery, too plain, or too cliché.

In the end, you opt for making your own.

You find some DIY bookmark kits online and place an order. Trying not to second guess your decision, you call it a night—going to sleep as you brainstorm what to put on the item.

Thursday

“Do people actually read these books?” Wonwoo asks during your break, which you decided to spend with him.

Your gaze follows his to the wall lined with several bookshelves.

You chuckle, “Sometimes.”

“You said you got these books donated?” he asks, recalling an earlier conversation you had when he was a newcomer.

“Most of them,” you hum.

“Does your offer still stand?” he asks.

You turn to him with puzzlement.

He smiles. “You said I could take a book if I left one.”

“Oh,” you laugh out of embarrassment for forgetting. “Of course.”

Wonwoo nods and then stands up. He takes two steps to his right, then carefully plucks a book from a high shelf. He replaces the empty space with his own book.

Something about the simple act has your heartwarming. Or maybe it’s the way he’s so gentle with the books as if they’ll cry if moved too aggressively. You wonder if he’d touch you as carefully, if given the chance. Would you find comfort in his caresses the way you think the books would if they were personified?

Wonwoo sits in his seat again, perching his glasses higher after they slide down.

“Have you read this?” he asks, twisting the book so the cover faces you.

You analyze it for a moment, but the title doesn’t ring a bell.

Shaking your head, “Unfortunately not. I haven’t had the chance to read in a long while.”

“I guess running a business is time-consuming,” he teases lightly.

“How do you find the time? Didn’t you say your work is hard, too?” you ask.

He leans back in his seat, book resting in his lap.

“I make time,” he simply says. “I found it’s important to make time for things I care about.”

He’s staring at you in a way that makes you think there’s more to his words than he lets on.

“T-That’s a good habit, I suppose,” you say.

“When was the last time you did something for yourself, and not the café?” he questions.

Your brows furrow in deep thought. You thought the answer would come easily, but it doesn’t.

“I—I can’t remember,” you answer with your gaze down, a little dejected at the self-reflection.

Wonwoo sits up and leans toward you. He lowers himself until he can snag eye contact.

“Don’t be too harsh on yourself,” he reassures. “I know what it’s like to bury myself in my work.”

“You probably think I’m pathetic, huh?” you laugh awkwardly.

Wonwoo shakes his head.

“It’s good to be dedicated to something. Your efforts are clearly visible,” he gestures to your crowded café. “But at the same time, it’s also good to not burn yourself out.”

You nod in agreement. “I’ll try to be better.”

“Not for me though. For you,” he says.

You offer him a kind smile that he returns. “For me.”

Friday

Wonwoo doesn’t come at his usual time.

You finally finished his gift last night and are eager to show it to him. You try to suppress your excitement, but it’s difficult to calm your mix of emotions.

As you made it, you realized it was the first time doing something non-work related. Usually, you’d be researching new recipes, doing finances, or simply sleeping. Last night, however, you were doing something personal.

Wonwoo’s words from yesterday ring loudly in your ears.

It felt good to take a break from work.

It felt good to feel like an actual person and not some workaholic machine.

Some say people come into your life for a reason. Maybe you’d still be stuck in your cycle, if not for him.

You wish he were here.

Wonwoo’s usually a punctual man, so being this late sends uneasy nerves coursing through you. But, the idea of him not showing up at all is even more worrisome.

Perhaps he’s working overtime and will be here soon. He’s never missed a day.

Yet, as minutes turn into hours, you begin losing hope.

Excitement transitions into worry. This isn’t his typical behavior. You don’t have a way to contact him either.

Is he hurt? Does he need help? Did you say something wrong yesterday? Did he finally decide he doesn’t like your café anymore?

Perhaps you’re too caught up with giving him your gift that you’re overreacting. It could simply be a late, late night at work for him.

He’ll be here.

Even if he just grabs his drink to go, which he’s done in the past, he’ll be here.

The bell chimes as your last coworker leaves for the night.

Wonwoo’s present sat abandoned in your locker throughout your shift. There’s an odd discomfort in your chest as you stare at it now.

You’re not sure if it originates from being unable to gift it and see Wonwoo’s reaction, or if it’s because he never showed up.

Probably a combination of both, but more so the latter.

It’s uncanny to not see Wonwoo every day.

You had never thought about how you’d feel if you didn’t see him constantly. He was just always there. Always so reliable that you didn’t feel the need to consider what if.

What if he stopped showing up? What if you never saw him again? What if he no longer was a constant in your life?

You swallow the lump forming in your throat.

It’s a harsh reality to know he’s not required to visit. He can leave any time he wants. He can stop visiting your bookstore café at any moment.

There’s a strange thought about you not being good enough for him. Though, you’re not sure what that has anything to do with his absence.

Why would it matter if you weren’t good enough for him? He didn’t come to the café for you.

Did he?

If it was you he wanted, couldn’t he ask you out? Perhaps not as a romantic date, but as friends?

He never has, so he must not want to know you beyond the café. Meaning, he doesn’t come to it solely for you.

But, what changed for him not to show up tonight?

Unsettled with your thoughts, you decide to distract yourself with the final tasks you have to do before you leave.

However, the ride home is filled with more endless thoughts about Wonwoo.

Saturday

You come to work with less bounce in your step than usual.

The world outside seems dimmer. It feels as if the skies are going to be consumed with clouds and rain is going to fall. However, a storm was not in the weather’s forecast.

“Are you getting sick?” Sebastian asks.

You force a smile onto your face for the customer in front of you, handing them their order before looking at your coworker.

“No, why?” you wonder.

“You don’t seem well. Did you not sleep well last night?”

You wish you had, but you tossed and turned constantly. You didn’t think Wonwoo’s absence would affect you so much, but your mind kept wandering to every possibility for his no-show. In the end, you just gave yourself a headache.

“No,” you sigh, “but don’t worry about me.”

You try to smile again, but you’re sure Sebastian can see through it.

“Want me to close up tonight?” he offers.

“Don’t you have a big essay due tomorrow?” you question, remembering how stressed he sounded a few days ago.

“Yeah, but—”

“I’ll be fine,” you insist.

Huffing, he nods and grabs the cup from your hand. “Then go rest for a bit while I finish these orders.”

You purse your lips, contemplating arguing. In the end, you relent, moving to the backroom’s couch and plopping down.

You’ve been scrolling through your phone for ten minutes when you hear a familiar voice.

“Is Yn not here today?”

“Oh, she’s not feeling well, so she’s taking a break. Is there something wrong with our service?” Sebastian answers politely.

You shove your phone in your pocket and head to the door. There’s a small window that you peep out of.

You catch a glimpse of Wonwoo’s frown before he speaks again.

“No, everything’s fine. Will you tell her I hope she feels better?” he asks.

Sebastian nods slowly. Although you can’t see his face, you can see the cogs turn in his head.

“Oh! Ooh! You’re that guy.”

Wonwoo looks confused.

“I’m sorry?” Wonwoo replies.

“The guy that always comes in—”

Not trusting Sebastian to keep his matchmaking attempts at bay, you push through the door.

“Wonwoo,” you greet, trying not to seem too eager that he's here today even though you are.

Wonwoo’s eyes drift past Sebastian to see you. Instantly, his mouth begins to lift.

“Hey, you,” he says lightly, sweetly. “I heard you’re not feeling well.”

“Ah, I’m fine. Seb’s just overreacting.”

Sebastian narrows his eyes at you in a glare.

“You’re supposed to be resting,” he scolds.

“I’ve rested enough,” you shoo with a hand.

“Ten minutes isn’t long enou—”

“Seb, do you mind attending to the customers behind Wonwoo?” you interject.

Sebastian eyes you before grumbling under his breath—something about you being stubborn—then greets the next customer.

You move down the counter to an empty space.

“What can I get you?” you ask Wonwoo.

He shakes his head. “Actually, I just wanted to talk today, if that’s okay. I won’t be long.”

You want to say he can take as much time as he wants, but you hold back.

Concern creeps from the shadows around you.

Is he going to tell you he’s leaving forever? Does he not like your drinks anymore? Did he find somewhere better? Someone better?

“O-Oh, yeah, okay,” you mumble and maneuver around the counter.

You lead Wonwoo to his usual corner, next to the window and the bookshelves. It’s a little quieter here.

You both take a seat from across each other.

You fidget in your seat, nerves making you angsty.

“Are you sure you feel okay?” he asks.

“Just tired, nothing to be worried about,” you smile.

Something in your chest warms at knowing he cares about your well-being.

“Hm. Alright,” he replies a little skeptically.

“Is everything okay with you?” You try to change the subject. “You didn’t come in yesterday.”

Your voice trails off, not wanting to show how concerned you were about his absence. However, Wonwoo can sense it regardless.

He smiles, though the small lift at the corner of his mouth tells you he’s amused with your attempt to hide your worry.

“Did you miss me?” he wonders.

Your eyes widen a bit. “I—Well. I just noticed you didn’t come because you always come, you know?”

He nods with a subtle smirk still on his lips, yet it fades after a few seconds.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come,” he apologizes sincerely. “One of my friends was in the hospital.”

Your heart drops and guilt kicks in. It’s not that you didn’t consider the possibility, but you had been more focused on him not liking you or the café.

“Goodness, I’m sorry to hear that. Are they okay?” you ask, frowning.

“He had to get surgery, but he’s fine. Just a little grumpy and whiny,” he chuckles.

You feel better hearing his small laughter.

“That’s better than being in pain, I guess,” you reply.

“Yes,” he concurs. He waits for a beat then continues, “I wanted to ask you a question.”

You tilt your head.

A question. That sounds better than some statement about not seeing you again.

“Okay,” you say.

“When we last spoke, it was about you not having enough time for stuff outside of work,” he begins.

You nod to show you’re following but don’t cut in.

“Well, there’s this small event tomorrow. It’s nothing fancy, just some walking around. I wanted to know if you’d like to go with me?”

Your heart races as he speaks. You’re stumped for words. It’s as if you’ve subconsciously been waiting for this, but now that the time has come, you’re too nervous to answer.

“You can decline,” Wonwoo assures.

Although you’re anxious about the idea of meeting outside of the café, you don’t want to miss the opportunity.

“N-No! I mean, no, I don’t want to decline. What time? Where?” you hurriedly say before he can take back his offer.

He grins and holds out a small piece of paper.

You take it, turning it over to see scribbled numbers. You guess it’s his phone number.

“I can pick you up after work. You close early tomorrow, right?” he asks.

You nod, trying to hide your smile at him remembering your café hours. Though, since he visits frequently, you guess it shouldn’t be that surprising.

“Dress warm, okay?” he adds.

“Okay.”

Wonwoo stands from his seat, and you follow.

“Get some more rest tonight, Yn,” he says softly.

“Y-Yeah. I will,” you reply.

Although you’re no longer fretting over reasons for his no-show yesterday, you’ll be worrying about tomorrow now. Still, you’ll try to sleep—maybe even drink some tea or warm milk. You’ll try for him.

Sunday

Wonwoo comes to the café a few minutes before you close. He’s dressed in a fluffy hoodie layered with a light brown trench coat. He looks so…soft and warm.

Before you depart, you make a drink for each of you. He tries to pay but you profusely veto his offer.

The ride to the event is quiet except for the random music being played from his stereo. You’re unsure how long the ride is, but you don’t care. Even if you’re not speaking, it’s nice being with him in a new environment. It’s nice to see a different side of Wonwoo. And part of you hopes he likes seeing a different side of you too.

The event is free, but since donations are strongly encouraged, you and Wonwoo slip a few bills into the plastic reindeer before stepping onto the lit-up walkway.

People of all ages are enjoying the event. The walkway is wide enough to accommodate a couple of people at a time, but it’s still crowded. It forces you and Wonwoo to bump shoulders several times, and each time, you both apologize.

You notice a few minutes into the walk that he seems tenser than usual. You’re not sure of the reason, and he doesn’t seem inclined to disclose the answer.

You try to distract him by pointing out different features—from big blown-up Santas to mechanical reindeer moving up and down. However, it doesn’t seem too effective.

Wonwoo’s steps eventually begin to slow. He never comes to a complete stop, but with his slow speed, a lot of people pass by. Eventually, there’s a gap in the crowd and his body relaxes.

He must not be a fan of crowds.

“Can we sit for a bit?” you ask, not really needing to rest but there are picnic tables with fake candles on them nearby that are less crowded.

“Sure,” he says.

You guide him to an empty table and sit across from each other.

“Thank you for taking me here,” you smile while glancing around. “It’s so pretty.”

The area is filled with multitudes of holiday decor. There are so many lights strung that you don’t need streetlamps to see. It’s rather magical to see it all. It’s a shame you can’t see this all year round. But then again, it might lose its effect if you see it constantly.

“I’m glad you like it,” he replies.

His eyes drop to your hands clasped on the table. There’s a slight shiver in them.

Suddenly, his hands are covering yours—warmth instantly shooting up your arms from his touch. He says nothing as he rubs his thumbs along your cool skin.

You want to say something; however, it doesn’t feel like you have to, so you just stare at him, a small smile on your face while you bask in the warmth he’s providing.

“How does it feel?” he questions after a few minutes.

You open your mouth to say “good” and to thank him for taking away your coldness, but before you can, he speaks again.

“Getting out, I mean. How does it feel to get out of the café?”

“Oh.” Your face heats rapidly. Thank goodness for your slow reaction. “It’s refreshing.”

Wonwoo hums, nodding.

“Should we walk around again, or should we go? I don’t want you catching a cold,” he says.

“I’d like to see more if that’s okay,” you admit.

“It’s more than okay,” he reassures.

He starts to stand, but you grip his hands to stop him. He stares down at you bemused.

“I have something for you,” you explain.

He sits back down, hands leaving yours when you pull away to retrieve something from your bag.

It’s a small black box with a purple bow on it, albeit the decor is a little squished from being confined to your small bag.

“What’s this?” he asks and carefully brings the box nearby.

“Since you gave me a gift this week,” you say, referring to his tip on Monday, “I got you one as well.”

“You didn’t—”

“Need to? I know. But, I wanted to. And I worked hard on it, so accept it, please?” you say lightly so as to not sound too serious.

He smiles and nods, lifting the lid.

Inside is the bookmark you made him. On the bookmark’s center is a cat with a game controller. It’s simple, but that’s the best you could do with your lack of drawing skills. Attached to the bookmark is a purple tassel.

“You made this?” Wonwoo asks in amazement.

“I’ll only admit to that if you like it,” you say out of nervousness.

Wonwoo laughs and glances at you. “I like it a lot.”

“Then yes, I made it.”

His gaze shifts to the item again, examining it closely for a bit. Then, he sets it back carefully in the box and puts it in his pocket.

“Thank you,” he says earnestly.

“Of course,” you smile.

You and Wonwoo walk around for twenty more minutes before you call it a night. Throughout the entire walk, he held your hand in his free pocket. The warmth from his body combined with his sheltered pocket made your hand clammy. You felt embarrassed at the fact, but Wonwoo refused to release his hold. Truthfully, you didn’t want to let go, but you also didn’t want him to be disgusted at the feeling.

Wonwoo drove you back to your café where your car was.

You tried to demand he stay in your car since he parked next to yours, but he still climbed out.

You stare at his eyes which are framed by his glasses; his cheeks are slightly rosy from the temperature. His dark hair dances softly in the wind. He looks so handsome.

Wonwoo leans forward and connects his lips ever so softly against your cheek. You have the urge to turn your face and capture his lips with yours, but you don’t.

There’s something romantic about going slow.

Wonwoo pulls back with a kind smile.

“You look beautiful tonight, Yn,” he whispers, breath ghosting your face.

You can’t stop the smile forming on your face even if you tried.

“And you look handsome,” you reply.

Wonwoo mirrors your grin.

“Get home safely, alright?” he instructs.

You nod. “You too.”

You unlock your car and climb inside.

Wonwoo lingers outside, watching with his hands in his pockets.

After starting your car and rolling down your window, you lean out and prop your head on your arm that’s resting on the edge.

He bends slightly to see you better, a small grin on his mouth. His face isn’t too close, but it’s closer than it should be for an average person. But, Wonwoo isn’t average.

He’s quiet for a while, and you take the time to observe his features again. Your heart is thumping loudly in your ears. The desire to kiss him resurfaces.

Maybe you’re starting to like Wonwoo. Not just because he’s attractive, kind, funny, and caring, but because he’s Wonwoo.

Wonwoo, who’s been a frequent customer at your café for months.

Wonwoo, who’s always been supportive and kind.

Wonwoo, who’s slowly capturing your heart.

“So, I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asks with a smile still on his face.

“Yeah,” you say, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Because of Wonwoo, you’re always looking forward to the next day.

For my “shy/silent” readers, I’ve created a feedback form where you can share your thoughts on my fics in a more anonymous and private way. ^-^

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queers-gambit · 5 months

Text

Campus Breakdown

prompt: ( requested ) after a hard day, at least you can come home to him.

pairing: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x female!reader

fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear

word count: 1.6k+

warnings: reader's a graduate student, cursing, small angst but mostly small hurt bigger comfort.

The door slammed shut in a forceful rattle, making Carmy perk up from his place on the couch. "Baby?" He called, setting aside the magazine you left behind.

"Carmy?" You sounded confused, exiting the foyer to round into the living room. "Hey, what're you doing home so early?"

"Uh, pipe burst at work, left Fak t'deal with it," he sniffled, muting the television. "What's up with you? Or do you always slam doors happily around here?"

You sighed, "Sorry, I just - it's been a day and a half, you know?"

He pouted dramatically, offering, "Wanna tell me 'bout it?"

"It won't fix what happened."

"No, but it might help get it off your chest, filter a little emotion."

You nodded absently, "I think I might want a glass of wine first - maybe two."

He felt a surge of empathy in his chest, knowing that distant look in your eyes and the way your entire demeanor seemed absent, distracted, exhausted. Work often kicked his ass, too, so there was an understanding after so many nights you had let him rant and rave about whatever went wrong - it was only right to return the favor.

Carmy readjusted the pillows and coffee table, leaning over to light the scented candle you kept there; grabbing a blanket to prepare for you. When you entered the living room, you had stripped out of your pants and was pouring a glass of wine, leaving the bottle on the cleaned-up coffee table; sighing when you dropped onto the couch.

"All right, pretty girl," Carmy chuckled, pulling your feet into his lap. You readjusted with a small grumble as Carmy then tossed the blanket over you, but left your feet out for him to massage. "Tell me what happened today."

You held up a single finger, downing more than half your glass of wine. Carm's brows perked up, blinking in shock before nodding slowly when you swallowed. "Today. Fucking. Sucked," you told him.

"I can see that, and feel it - your feet are knotted," he noted, working his thumbs into the meat. "Did you sit down at all today?"

"Well, no, 'cause I had to work alone today," you groaned. "Lisa has mono, Brittany had to make up some exam, Benjamin apparently had a meeting with the bursar's office, and Stacy literally stood outside, fighting with her boyfriend - like what!?"

Carmy offered you a stale look in reaction to your story, "She get docked?"

"Well, yeah, I mean, I kinda had to; she didn't bus a single table, she didn't talk to a single customer, like, the only other person working with me today was Carl and he was in the kitchen the whole time."

"Doesn't sound exactly fair..."

"It's a shitty campus diner, Carmy, 'fair' isn't exactly in their vocabulary, but the tips are semi decent 'cause we have that 'drunk rush special'. Oh! Wait! That's not all," you hummed, taking another gulp. "'Cause why would anything go right on a day I worked the entire floor alone? Right?"

"What else?" He asked, turning in his seat so he could face you directly; still massaging your feet, but leaning his cheek on your bent knee to remain close.

"The fucking register went down."

"You mean the only one in the whole place?"

"Yep, of course! 'Cause why the fuck wouldn't anything go right?" You scoffed. "And it's not like any of this was, like, hidden, you know? It was very obvious I was working alone, the register was fucked, but do you think that made anyone empathetic towards the situation? No, of course not, they wanted to just pay their bills and leave. Which I fucking get! But like, what!?"

"What'd you do?"

"Took cash only," you shrugged. "ATM was still up and running, so it was on them," you wiped you eyes, sighing deeply. "Still bitched the whole time though, complained to whoever listened. End of the night, that new manager even docked my tips, you believe that?"

"Hold up - for what?" Carm snapped.

"Customers were that pissed, Carmy, so a few of them dined-and-dashed, someone had to pay," you whined, head tilted back. "Like I did any of this on purpose? Like I went and unplugged shit myself? Like I wanted to make my life significantly harder? Do people even fucking think by themselves now? Where's the empathy?"

"Nah, they definitely lack in that department," he chuckled. "Know what I'm gonna say, right?"

"Hmm? Oh, Carmy, no," you groaned, "I'm not working at The Beef."

"It's ten times better than where you work, baby," he pouted. "And I could use someone with experience like yours with the customers. Richie's not always the best 'face of the store', you know?"

"No, Carmy," you refused sternly.

"C'mon, why not?"

"You as my boss? And boyfriend? Fuck no!"

"I'm literally so nice!"

"Yeah, that's exactly what Sydney says," you laughed, nudging his stomach with your foot. "Baby, no. Listen, I appreciate it, I really do, but I get ten times the tips at that shitty diner than I would at The Beef, and it's right on campus so I lose literally no time."

He sighed, "You're only, what? A year out from your Masters?"

"Just about," you grumbled with a pout.

Carmy chuckled, "C'mon, baby, don't torture yourself. Get a new job."

"I'm not, I'm just - " You cut yourself off with a sigh, hating that advice (as if it were just so simple), shaking your head and finishing your wine. "I'm just dealing with my current circumstances, I'm sorry I came home in a bad mood - "

"No, hey, wait," Carmy sat up, reaching for your cheek to hold, "I didn't mean to make you feel as if I was shutting you down. Baby, I always want you t'talk to me, okay? I just mean, there's something better out there, and you deserve better than that place. I hate seeing you so stressed out," he pouted dramatically, making you snicker lightly.

"You're one to talk," you reminded softly, sitting up so you could nestle under his arm. "You're stressed out, like, more than 90% of the time."

"Hey now, we're talkin' about your day, not mine," he deflected with a small chuckle. "What if I asked around a bit? You know, a different server job? I can check out places close to campus, but you'd get much better tips and better customers at a nicer place."

You groaned, "Now that sounds nice." He chuckled with you now. "I mean, it's bad enough I have to deal with those creepy frat boys in class, but in the diner, I have to play nice 'cause they tip with daddy's money well if I don't shut them up. It'd be nice working somewhere they couldn't even afford t'walk into."

"See? I'm good for something."

"You're good for everything, Carm, shut up," you laughed, leaning up to kiss his jawline. "I'm just tired of this whole 'pay your dues' bullshit. You know? I get having to suffer a little to build a better character, but for fuck's sake."

Carmy pouted, "Sounds like a second glass of wine kinda rant?"

You pouted back at him, nodding, both mockingly making little noises as he lifted from his sitting position to snag the bottle of wine. You smiled as he poured, watching his face, loving the effect he had on you; feeling calm and serene, and it wasn't the alcohol. When the bottle was set aside again, he tugged your legs over his lap and laid one of his arms around your shoulders; keeping you snuggled close and under the blanket.

"What else happened?" He asked softly, kissing your temple.

"I don't want to sound like I'm just bitching."

"How else do you expect to blow off steam? Huh?" He countered. "You're not bothering me, I want to hear this, baby - all of it. So, lemme recount, yeah? Okay, so, you worked alone your whole shift with only the frycook in the back, the cash register went down, and that made a buncha customers all pissed off. Enough that a few dipped off and you had to cover their bills. But the ATM was good, so they could still pay cash, but they were still being dickheads, yeah?"

"Mhm," you hummed, halting yourself.

"Nuh-uh, c'mon, what else?"

Tears sprung to your eyes as your head lulled onto his shoulder. "It was just a really shitty day, Carm," you whispered, giving a small sniffle. "Guys are grimy and gross, they garnished my wages 'cause of those dashers - I told you. It was a fucking shit show! Oh, and a few bulbs blew all within 10 minutes of each other - like fully snap, crackle, and pop, blew out. So, I had to call the electrician, he took over 2 hours to get there, so, part of the back dining room was darker and this group of guys all decided to sit back there - it was so fucking creepy!"

Carmen frowned, listening to you rant and rave about how overworked and under appreciated you were. He held you tight, raking a hand through your hair, tracing invisible patterns on your upper arm; keeping you close as the wine slowly sunk into your blood. You grew less lucid by the passing hour, mostly the exhaustion sinking in, but Carmy didn't mind.

He just adjusted you both on the couch so he was laid out with you safely tucked between the cushions and his body. You had long since changed subjects; going from shitty work conditions to sports to your coursework load, then to The Beef, breezed over whatever Richie's daily attitude was about, then quietly debated if Carmy was taking the weekend off to spend it with you. Now, the TV was the only light on in the apartment, wine bottle empty, you resting on Carmy's chest; his arms tight around you, blanket tangled around your legs, both speaking quietly into the night before sleep claimed you both.

requesting rules and masterlist

The Bear masterlist

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n30nwrites · 2 months

Text

Fetch (Shifter! Tf141 x Male! Reader)

Chapter 4 of Good Doggy

Masterlist

Tw - Drunk Assholes (inspired by real stories from me :)), Slight blood warning, Language (its a COD fanfic??), OKAY SO LIKE I GUESS SLIGHT SUGGESTIVE STUFF?? I WANTED TO MAKE IT LONGER. A SMALL SCENE OF NSFW BUT NOTHING TOO DEEP BUT STILL PUTTING A WARNING, ITS IN BETWEEN THE NSFW GRAPHICS. Gaz has a praise kink.

Beta Reader/Editor - @letmelickyoureyeballs

Updated: 3/5/2024

The bar is filled. It’s a Friday night, of course it is but you hate it. You don’t like dealing with assholes. Not after the conversation with Maya.

“I cannot serve you anymore. If you don’t decide to leave I will call the cops.” The man in front of you shouts profanity after profanity, angered by the law. Humans were stupid that way. “Here’s a water.” You slam it down, annoyed.

Idiots. Drunken idiots.

Yeah by Usher starts playing. The club you worked at was loud, you have ear plugs in just so you wouldn’t be overstimulated by everything, but you could still hear enough.

“Why do you have a mask on?” He's irritated already which means that this conversation will not end well. You usually strive to give your coworkers the assholes, not caring that he'll have to deal with it.

"It's to stay safe, I don't want to get sick-"

The man cuts you off and you debate on spitting in his drink, "That's not gonna keep you safe, the only way to stay safe is to build your immune system." He keeps yelling, and some spit leaves his mouth. You place down the menu in front of him as he keeps yelling, "That's the only way to stay safe, not a stupid mask!"

You walk away, going to your coworker and telling him to get his order cause if you do you'll be fired. You instead went over to the list of music that was going to play and put on a favorite song of yours, not caring for some disgruntled noise from other patrons as you bobbed your head to the beat, distracting yourself from the day you had.

"Ye lik' this song mo gaol?" It's the familiar accent and the way the hairs on your arms stand makes you more irritated. It was roughly 1 a.m. and most people would be tired. You'd reckon it would start slowly down in 20 minutes, which meant you could get some work done.

You turned to face Soap.

"I'd hope so, I chose it." You tell him as you get closer to him. "You still stalking me?"

"Ah'ahmnot a stalker, juist wanted a drink." He smiles boyishly, as if he wasn't Sergeant John ``Soap" MacTavish with more confirmed kills than unconfirmed.

"At the bar I work at?"

"Juist a coincidence"

"I'd prefer it if you didn't lie to me." You told him while you mixed a drink. "You obviously have something for me."

"A'm in loue wi' ye"

"Not possible." You tell him, interrupting his "confession". You set the drink down in front of him. "$13" You tell him the price.

"I didnae orda a drink?" He looked cheeky, and you wished some part of you didn't find him attractive. But he looks up at you and you can't help but imagine other scenarios, particularly some where you're both naked.

"Well you can either pay for the drink and drink it, or pay for the drink and I'll drink it and talk with you some more." Soap immediately puts down two 20s.

"Th' rest can go to mah bartender." You slip the extra cash into your pocket, going to your POS system and breaking out for your thirty minute break that was required. You grabbed the drink on the counter and left your work area, Soap following behind like a puppy. You found a booth in the corner most people avoided. Sitting down at what could fit five others at most. Your mind goes back to Maya, who’s probably taking care of Icarus, your dog, and Marigold, her familiar. Maya worked as well, but it was an in-house job where she dealt with customers in need of assistance.

"You hurt our feelin`s earlier," He says first as you take a sip of the drink you made. "Hae we dane something tae offend ye?"

"Don't want to get your hopes up." You tell him, "I'm not one for soulmates."

"So ye know?"

"Of course I do. You reek of wolf." He starts to sniff himself and you want to laugh at how ridiculous it looks. "You wouldn't be able to smell it. And it's not a bad smell, just obnoxious cause there's four of you."

"So ye aren't human."

"Nope, never was."

"What are ye?" You never felt shame in what you were. Didn't feel shame in general, it took Maya for you to start walking around in clothes.

But you didn't want to tell him.

"None of your business."

Gaz knows that Price is going to talk about the bloodshed in the morning. He knows that Price already knows but doesn't care to stop it tonight. Price is just too drunk, Ghost doesn’t care, and Soap is who knows where. It wasn’t like he killed humans tonight, just some animals that were definitely going to get the town's attention (He might’ve killed a bear) but not the hunters.

He's decorated in blood and he loves it. It soothes some messed-up part of him. His teeth still have specks of flesh in it, that he licks clean

He smells you. Heavenly you. You who smells like some plant burning. He didn't understand it, but he loved it.

You're next to Soap, and Soap has the biggest grin as you walk together.

Though you probably don't see it as together. You probably see it as him stalking you, but you don't seem to have your usual air of distaste. You have sunglasses on, something he hates cause he can't stare at them. Your mask is black, and you also have a hood on. You look perfect, he just wishes you were in his bedroom.

Preferably naked and-

Nope.

He kind of hates it at the same time though. Soap getting so close to you, still determined to find a way to be with you. Soap didn't lose hope, not like Gaz did. But he'd be damned if he didn't do something. He lets out a growl, standing menacingly as he runs forward, towards both of you, knocking Soap down as he growls at him, his teeth snapping. If Gaz doesn't get to be happy, Soap shouldn't either.

He just wasn't expecting your reaction.

"Get off him." He followed your command, staring up at you and following your eyes when you bent down to be eye level with him. "God you are so..."

"Cute." Your voice gets higher as you gently rub behind his ears, the blood not bothering you at all. Gaz almost forgets how you looked at him earlier, your words that cut him melted away and he just thinks he has a chance.

You loved dogs, who wouldn't? Even if that dog was actually a grown (hot) man.

"Look who's such a pretty boy." You kept rubbing his head as Soap just stared in shock. "Such a handsome boy, who did you eat?" You coo at Gaz, who leans into your touch and praise, enjoying everything about this moment. Gaz has to take a moment to remember himself, that the praise you give him is nothing.

But he can't help but imagine scenarios in a different setting.

NSFW Start

It's such a simple setting. In his room, the lights are low. He's flushed, shirtless and on the floor, while you sit above him.

"Can't you be a good boy for me?" You lick your lip before biting it, you stare at him, your eyes actually showing, looking at him with lust and love. A perfect combination, and your lips, god, you were perfect for him. "Come on, you know you want to." You lower your shorts and Gaz gulps, he stares at your cock, mesmerized.

"You're hungry for it, aren't you whore?"

NSFW End

"Arr ye fecken' kidding me?" Soap says, breaking the peaceful moment, and Gaz's daydream. "A' it took wis a wolf fur ye to lik' us?"

"I still don't like you all, but dogs are always a great company." You keep petting him, Gaz's eyes closing slightly, and Soap sits up.

"Ah can do that toh." His accent gets thicker as he rushes to grab your hand, forcing it away from Gaz and instead putting it in his hair. Which was mostly shaved on the sides.

"You aren't a cute puppy right now." You yank your hand away.

"He's fooken' bloody!"

Gaz licks your face, and you slightly smile.

----

Listen, hating people is one thing but I could never hate a dog, let alone a wolf. Reader still doesn't feel comfortable around the boys, but he does like the dogs.

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sanyu-thewitch05 · 1 year

Text

Yandere Jock X F! Bookworm! Reader

Pt. 2 Pt.3

TW: Non-con, dubcon, spankings, mention of isolation, bribery

A/N: I’m excited to write my first smut like this. It was a much needed writing exercise.

Kofi: Wanna buy me a coffee?

🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓

You were always a bookworm. You didn't like talking to other people much, but you value the few friends you have. That was until he came along. The school jock, the lightly tanned skin with sun-kissed hair boy, with six-foot stature. Along with muscles to match his build. He rarely came by you, but that day fate decided to let his eyes shine down on you in your corner of the library.

He grabbed a book about muscle mass and sat next to you in the blue bean bag.

"Have I seen you around anywhere? You look familiar," He asked, looking at you as you focused on your book more. "Not a talker, huh?"

You refused to give this guy the time of day, especially when you didn't want to be a one-time hookup. You close your book and leave the library, not paying attention to the football player behind you. If only you knew how much he wanted you.

Eventually, as the day went on, he would try to talk to you, but to no avail. You simply didn't want to be one of his sexual conquests. Then, the pep rally came for the big game, and that's when your life changed forever. As usual, your bookworm self skipped the pep rally to head out to the library. You didn't like the noise and screams of other students, and you especially didn't like being crowded in a gymnasium during a hot day.

You grabbed a shiny blue book from the middle shelf and settled into the bean bag near a dark and quiet corner. The librarian had already gone home but left the keys under the doormat since she knew you liked to come after hours. Although, it was a pain having to lock up before going home.

The last bell rang, but unfortunately, you couldn't hear it due to falling asleep from reading Caraval. But that wasn't unusual for you. You'd just wake up and walk out of the library minutes to hours later. Unfortunately, your absence at the pep rally had caused the final straw to break in this poor jock's mind. He had been trying to get your attention for days. Flowers in the locker you hardly visit, notes that ended up in the trash, and even $500 cash in your backpack. Nothing got your attention. You were always more interested in your damn books than him. But when you were nowhere to be seen during the pep rally, something broke inside of him. You obviously needed help noticing him, and he knew just how to fix it. He knew how you’re a virgin but still had the urge to touch yourself until orgasm. He was going to give you better than that. He was going to fuck your brains out. He was going to give the best fucking of your life. He was going to be oh so soft and gentle as he took your virginity away. That is if his testosterone-fueled rage didn’t make him overdue it.

He walked into the library and found your sleepy figure about to leave. Everyone had gone home, and the sun was starting to set. No one was going to help or catch you with him.

Like a predator in the dark, he made his move and slammed you into the brick wall, slightly tilting your glasses. He held both your hands above your head with one hand and used the other to grab your face.

“You’re going to pay attention to me. Not your books, not your phone, just me. Me!” He growled, his body twitching with rage. “Do you know how long I’ve tried to gain your attention? Your affection? Only for you to ignore me or brush me to the side!”

“I’m sorry! I truly didn’t mean to ignore you! I just thought you were messing with me!” You cried, tears streaming down your face as your glasses fogged up.

“Oh, but you did! You ignored me earlier today in this very library! You’ve ignored me whenever I tried to talk to you! Fuck! All those other girls I’ve let taint my body were for you! All for you! Your affection! Now it’s time I showed you how I feel since you won’t notice me without help!” He barks out, slamming his lips on yours.

His tongue didn’t even fight for dominance just took over your mouth. Occasionally, he’d wrap his tongue around yours, but his tongue was mainly greedy.

“Screw these! You don’t need them for this!” He growled, throwing your glasses off. “Perfect.”

Your hair was a mess, and drool trailed down your chin. His eyes began to stare at the baggy plain shirt covering your pretty ass. He roughly flipped you onto your stomach and lifted your ass up by the leggings. Despite your ass being small, it was still a cute bubbly round that he could pound into euphoria. He didn’t care you didn’t have a standard beauty body. That just meant more people would stay away from you. It was less work and bribing for him.

“Your choice, spankings, oral, or fingering? Though if we do fingering, we’re going straight to sex afterward,” He asks, slowly rubbing your ass.

“Spankings,” You answered immediately, wanting to stall him for as long as possible.

“Haha, I see you like my hands on your ass. Very well, I’ll spank you, but I’ll sneak in some kisses to ease the pain,” He said, slowly peeling your leggings to your knees.

His massive hands began to spank your ass roughly, occasionally slapping your sex to get more juices to spread around on your ass. It was only the beginning of the pleasure. You didn’t want to feel so good from him spanking you, but you were finding it hard to hold back your moans. He delivered the final slap to your ass, then dove straight into your ass to kiss your clothed pussy.

“I’m so glad you wore such thin lace panties today,” He moaned, beginning to kiss your sex more. “I don’t mind that you’re a jungle down there. It only means that everything will stay longer.”

You didn’t pay attention to a word he said as the pleasure from his praise was beginning to get to your head. Your eyes began to get unfocused, and eventually, you came in your underwear as his kisses quickened.

“Ah!” You moaned, realizing your mistake. He began to feast on the delicious cum served. “Agh! Ha! Fuck! Don’t slurp on it while you’re near me like that!”

He finished the last of your cum and peeled off your underwear. He gently flipped you onto your back and took your baggy shirt off, revealing a beautiful chest. He smiled and kissed your chest until he met your bra.

“You’ve got to show that rack more, darling. It suits you. I’ll buy you a matching set in your favorite color. Of course, I’ll only be able to see it, though,” He proposed, taking off the bra with one hand.

Your arms immediately went to your chest, but he stopped you from covering them up by gently rubbing a nipple.

“Sh, sh, sh, it’s ok, dear. Your chest size doesn’t bother me. It’s beautiful,” He cooed, kissing each breast. “Let me worship your body. You need to learn how much of a goddess you are.”

You nodded yes, but everything about it seemed wrong. But the kind words, the way he complimented you, made you feel loved. It made you feel the way those boys in the novels did. He had done all this work for you. Maybe you should give him a chance.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle. You’ll only feel a bit of discomfort,” He said, lining his member up with your vaginal opening. His member matched his height and proudly displayed its six inches.

You wanted to look at him, but you couldn’t. Not only had he thrown your glasses across the room, but you couldn’t look him in the face. It felt so humiliating being in this position in your sacred space.

“It’s your glasses, isn’t it? I shouldn’t have thrown them. I know how protective you are of them since your last pair got broken by that reckless freshman playing football. Here, I’ll get them for you.” He got up and grabbed the glasses from the floor. He gently placed them on your face, letting you see the adorable face full of love and concern. “Is that better, beautiful?”

“Yeah, it is better. Thank you,” You said, earning a soft and gentle kiss.

He returned to his original position and gently wrapped your legs around his waist. He stuck the tip in and waited for your approval to move further.

“You can move more. I’ll be ok,” You said, trying not to let tears out.

“I’ll be slow,” He put his whole length in and waited for you to adjust.

Your legs tighten around his waist, and he begins to thrust in and out of you. Each thrust released a wave of pleasure, pleas, and moans. Both fed off each other’s arousal and pleasure, until the poor jock got pushed over the edge. He lifted your legs as far back as they could and straddled you, beginning his rapid-fire thrusts. Your genital hairs tangled with his causing more friction and tension with each thrust. Your moans for him and his moans for you echoed through the empty library.

“Hah, oh fuck! I’m cumming!”

“I know, darling! So am I!”

He put both hands on your cheeks and looked at you as his climax approached.

“Let’s cum together!”

He thrust one last time, and you both came. Although he came inside of you, you couldn’t care less. You were his now. Besides, you were taking the pill, and you were always perfect with following the schedule for it.

“I love you, darling, more than you realize.”

You couldn’t help but lay on the floor, naked, next to him and say, “I love you too.”

#yandere jock #smut #x reader #yandere jock X reader #f! reader #football jock #tw noncon #tw dubious consent #tw dubcon #x you smut #yandere smut #yandere noncon #male yandere #yandere dubcon #1k notes

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