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#all rising action but we never say it
daminini · 7 months
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All of this boils down to racism and it’s so fucking disheartening to see
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yuwuta · 4 months
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RODEO STATION, 1 — MEGUMI FUSHIGURO 
A collection of you and Megumi, through the years, through Gojo’s eyes. 
content, warnings: friends to lovers, fluff, sort of canon-adjacent, satoru adopts megumi and tsumiki, reader has a cursed technique but it’s not mentioned in depth here, really just you and megumi falling in love and gojo watching
word count: 1.1k
part i: first years, jujutsu tech. fits in the timeline around when nobara first joins the class
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When Satoru first finds him, Megumi has two conditions. First, that Tsumiki would be kept safe and happy, and far away from the Zenin clan if they weren’t going to be good to her—safe and far away from all jujutsu society if Gojo could help it; and that she would never have to worry about feeding herself or Megumi ever again. Satoru agreed right away, he would have done that without the request. 
For his second condition, an eight year old Megumi looked Satoru straight in the eye and told him that he would absolutely not be separated from you. Satoru thought it was cute, sweet, in the bratty, and naive but determined kind of way that seemed to be everything that kid stood for, and Satoru couldn’t fault him for it. Megumi’s evident childlike adoration of you aside, Satoru saw potential in you, too, so he accepted Megumi’s conditions, happy to welcome the two of you to the world of sorcery. 
It’s not until a week before you both start at Jujutsu Tech, that Satoru really asks Megumi why he wants you here (never mind the fact that you had already also made up your mind about being a sorcerer, and if there is anything that Satoru has learned about you in the past decade, it’s that: one, you have the magical ability to make Megumi do anything you say; and two, you’re incredible persuasive and very stubborn). Megumi doesn’t look him in the eye when he answers, fidgeting with his melting ice cream instead when he says, “Well, she saved my life.” 
Satoru doesn’t tease when he hears this, only digging his spoon in for a scoop of Megumi’s toffee butter, smiling to himself when the cold hits his tongue, because he’d heard the message loud and clear: Megumi believes he owes you his life, and to keep yours protected, he wants you by his side.
Satoru quickly learns that Megumi truly has his work cut out for him as he watches you burst through a top-floor window of a high-rise building, falling carelessly with the object of your mission—a special-grade cursed object—clutched in your grasp. Second later, there’s a loud explosion, as the ugly head of a large cursed falls limp in the hole in the broken glass that you’d left behind. Satoru chuckles when he sees you smile, and the faint cheer of weeeeeeeee as you fall. He knew you were wild and stubborn by the way you bossed Megumi around without a care, but seeing you in action proved that you were also in your own league of crazy, a fantastic sorceress in the making. 
To his left, Yuuji gapes wildly as he looks up, shielding his eyes with his hand, and then flinching back when Nobara bursts through the ground floor door, not without a nail going flying into the curse that had been chasing her. She looks angry, then wide eyed, then up to where Yuuji and Megumi were also staring and starts squealing alongside him. 
“Gojo-sensei, what are you standing there smiling about—do something!” Nobara shouts, pointing an accusatory finger up in the air at your flying body. 
Yuuji gasps again, like he’d just figured out the consequence of you falling from a building, spewing on his own cries, “Hey, seriously, what the hell are we doing—she can’t fly,” he shouts, turning to shake his sensei, then pausing, “Wait, Fushiguro, can she fly? You know her.” 
“Idiot,” Nobara spits, “If she could fly then she’d be flying, not falling.”
“Then why aren’t we doing any—you know what, I think I can catch her,” Yuuji boasts, rolling up his sleeves, prepared to position himself underneath your descending body, and that’s when Satoru steps in, extending an arm in front of his students. 
“You all worry too much,” he smiles, lifting his blindfold just enough to look the pair in the eye, and tilt his head up slightly, “Besides, Megumi’s handled it.” 
Three heads turn back up to the sky, where you’re no longer in freefall, instead have had your shoulders snatched by Nue’s talons. You’ve still got that wild smile on your face, wider now as you descend much more elegantly via Megumi’s shikigami. Nobara and Yuuji wince as Nue’s wings flap widely when you’re set on the ground. You shift the box with the cursed object to one hand, reaching your free one around to pet the bird’s feathers. It crows happily, and Satoru snickers, much to Megumi’s dismay. You always did treat his shikigami like pets. 
“Hey, you’re okay!” Yuuji cheers, eyes sparkling, “What’s in the box? A sword—actually, I don’t want to know. If it’s another finger, keep it away from me.” 
“Hand it here,” Nobara demands. You’re happy to hand over the box and have another hand available for petting Nue. 
Satoru watches fondly as Yuuji and Nobara fuss over the box. They should probably exercise more caution, but he’s there, so the worst can’t happen. Meanwhile, you step closer to Megumi with Nue fluttering behind you. 
“You’re the one who told me there would be no need to get involved,” Megumi says, voice soft, hands falling comfortably at his side. 
“I said that you wouldn’t have to get involved with the curses,” you correct, standing on your tiptoes to nuzzles your head into the bird’s feathers, “I said nothing about not getting involved with me.” 
Satoru does his best not to choke out a loud laugh as Megumi’s face becomes increasingly pink when you reach forward to pinch his cheeks, his grumbling drowned in the sound of Yuuji and Nobara’s bickering. Satory sighs, content. He cares for all his students, but there’s a certain weight lifted on his shoulders knowing that when it came to you, there was truly nothing to worry about—Megumi would always be there for you. Honestly, he thinks Megumi might fight him to protect you if it came down to it. 
That thought does bring an audible chuckle to his lips, Megumi’s pinched expression calling to him, “What are you laughing about?” 
To which Satoru only hums, sticking his hands in his pockets. Megumi’s eyebrows furrow deeper, but it’s quickly dissolved when you catch his attention again, saying your farewells to Nue before giving Megumi the okay to let him recede into his shadows. 
“Oh, nothing,” Satoru chirps, turning to lead the group back to Ichiji’s car, “Come on, who’s still up for revolving sushi!”  
Cheers follow him as the veil dispels. You question Yuuji about whether or not you think the restaurant will have grilled eel, and Nobara pretends to throw up, arguing that eel is the worst, that you all should stick to hand rolls instead. Megumi stays quiet, walking on your outside, and humming along with all of your suggestions, and Satoru can’t help but wonder whether or not you knew that Nue had been out from the moment you’d stepped in the building. 
Honestly, he thinks Megumi might win that fight—might win any fight if it meant being with you.
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izukuszn · 4 months
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“Hey,” Satoru breathes, nuzzling his face into your neck, soft white hair tickling your skin. 
“Hmm.” you hum, running your fingers through his soft locks, your other hand rubbing along his back, feeling the smooth material of his cotton shirt, lingering on the muscles you can feel under it. His arms tighten around you, pulling you even more into his lap so that your chests are as close as they could be, your bodies melded together. You feel his nose press into you and the rise and fall of his body as he releases a breath when you place a delicate kiss on his shoulder. 
“You know you’re beautiful, right?” 
“Satoru…” you do your half-awkward laugh, half-breathing out thing that you always do whenever someone compliments you, now burying your own face into his neck as heat crawls up your skin. 
“You are. You truly are,” he says, pulling away from you and holding you by your waist, looking straight into your eyes with that unwavering gaze that never fails to let you know he’s being genuine. You take him in as his silver eyelashes flutter against his cheekbones, framing his azure eyes that are intensely staring back at you. His glasses are always off around you. He claims that he wants to fully see you as best as he can. 
Awkwardly smiling, you hold eye contact for a few seconds before nervously glancing away from his eyes. At times like this you can’t help but wonder, how does he see you as that? As beautiful. Doesn’t he know that he’s the beautiful one? That he’s the one that makes you stop in place multiple times a day just to think, wow. It's hard to believe him sometimes, when he says things like this. He says it so freely too, with no hesitation, no reluctance, simply opening his heart for you to look inside and do whatever you want with it. It makes you grateful that he chose you, of all people. It makes you scared, because what will you do when it's over? When it doesn't last? 
“We all know you’re the beautiful one, Satoru,” you respond, looking over his shoulder. When you’re met with silence, you glance back at him only to see his eyebrows furrowed, a pout on his lips, and without thinking you smooth your thumb over his bottom lip, smiling softly when he only pouts even more like a petulant child. 
He cups your face with his large hand, frown softening but still there when your eyes flutter and you rub your cheek into him. “Why do you always do that? Why don’t you ever believe me?” 
You keep your eyes closed. “You know why, Satoru…” You bring your front to his again, burying your face in his neck and holding him close as if he might disappear from under your fingers. 
“I’m yours forever, you know? There’s no getting rid of me. No matter how hard you try. You’re stuck with me, baby.”
“So you’ve said.” You hate when you’re not able to respond with the same thing, hate the hurt he tries to mask but fails around you when you don’t tell him how you truly feel, but you know he knows. You just need to work up the nerve to let it out.
He lets you avoid, Satoru can never deny you. Instead, you breathe him in, inhaling the comforting smell of his cologne and detergent, and he rubs soft shapes into your back, deft fingers bringing you to the edges of sleep. It's like this for a few minutes, the soft sounds of your breaths the only thing you can hear on the couch, but then he speaks again. 
“I’ll make sure to keep telling you until you believe me.” 
You sigh, “Will you now?”
You feel the jerk of his head against your neck as he nods, determined, and you smile to yourself. You can’t ever let him go. 
“I will, every single day.” You don’t mention that he already does. “You’re so incredibly beautiful, love. It kills me. I love it.”
You laugh, and he pulls away again to see the action, eyes crinkling with his own smile, dimples forming in his cheeks as his eyes sweep over your face.  
“Alright, Sa- Oh!” You’re cut off when he lifts you up with one arm, wrapping your legs around his waist and strolling over to the bedroom. “Satoru!” 
He winks at you, patting your ass. “I know a few other ways I can show you that I think you’re beautiful.” 
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roach-works · 4 months
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im finding this really hard to articulate but it's absolutely infuriating to see the level of government power and pressure that can be applied against "antisemitism" when what "antisemitism" means is 'not approving of how the USA props up israel to further its military objectives in the middle east', while every year since 2015 in america has gotten scarier and more dangerous for the jews who actually live here and are citizens.
like it's been year after year of rising hate crimes, temples bombed and burned, women and men attacked on the streets, harassed online, and our elected officials mouth vague platitudes at hannukah about it. dozens of pundits make serious cash money saying that the holocaust never happened. conspiracy theories about child trafficking and one world bank are now just commonly accepted as fact. and we were told that there wasn't any more that anyone could actually do about any of this. because free speech. because freedom of religion. because everyone has a right to their opinions.
but for israel, for the IDF, suddenly the cops can start making arrests? the same cops that protected proud boys all this time at their rallies are hustling to shut down crowds protesting palestinian genocide. suddenly politicians are getting in real trouble and staffers are getting fired and online there's waves of accounts getting deleted. suddenly antisemitism is driving a whole lot of action!
but none of the machinery of empire was ever used to actually protect jews. none of it was for us at all. america has proved itself deeply and profoundly indifferent to our lives and our voices. the only thing that actually matters here is the material usefulness of israel as a proxy state.
there's your "antisemitism".
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etheries1015 · 2 months
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The moment Vil fell in love with you, was one of the most vulnerable moments he had ever experienced. It was something that had caught him completely unawares, and never thought he'd fall for someone, much less the prefect of ramshackle.
Spoilers for the end of book 6, if you have not gotten that far.
The ride back to NRC from the island of woe was an exhausting one, to say the least. Everyone was groaning in mild annoyance at Vils sobbing at his now olden state, a wrinkled face with sunken cheeks and grey hair...something he feared more than anything in the world. Nobody actually blamed him, though, for anybody else would react as strongly to see their youth stripped away without even the hint of getting back their original form. Ugly, old, and gross, are all words Vil would go on to describe himself. You felt pity for him of course, but you were just as exhausted as everyone else.
Vil watched you in surprise as you stood up in a sleepy haze, wobbling to the (now) old man and cupping his sunken cheeks into your lively hands.
"Vil," You said sternly, the suddenness of your actions causing him to bite back his sobs for merely a moment.
"What you did for us today," You said with confidence in your tired eyes, "Was the most heroic thing I have ever seen. That was the bravest, most selfless act you could have possibly done, and I truly admire you for it, Vil." Your stern eyes softened with a smile mixed with pity and admiration, unconciously stroking his cheek with your thumb in attempt to sooth his trembling figure.
"We will find a way to get your body back. I understand this is a lot, but you need to hold onto faith." Your hands squished his cheeks together in a teasing and playful manner, purposefully causing him unable to respond verbally. Vil simply nodded, and you continued with passion raising your tone of voice.
"Right now, in my eyes, you are the most beautiful person with the biggest heart of gold I've ever met." You leaned forward and planted a gentle kiss on his cheek, something that drew him back with widened eyes. "Now, you must be incredibly tired from all the fighting we did. Try and rest, okay? You need it." He wanted to tell himself you were simply feeding him words of comfort in order to cease his persistent whining, yet with such confidence dripping with every word and small gesture you had no reason for engaging in, that was how he knew you were genuine.
How could you be so willing to kiss him when he looks like...that? How can you call him beautiful when all he sees are wrinkled hands and spotty skin? The word "heroic" also stuck out to him. Years of being played the villain, always unable to make it to the end of a movie, being discarded as the "bad guy," yet here you were, calling him...your hero. His heart skipped a beat and he could feel heat rise to his cheeks. There's no way you of all people could make him feel so...conflicted.
Yet there you were, with stringy sweaty hair, scratches, bruises, mud riddling your skin from hours of fighting for the world. He noticed how his dorm outfit lay in tatters on your body, and bags under your eyes were apparent as you so shamelessly yawned and sat next to him, falling asleep as you leaned up against his shoulder. This was the brazen prefect of Ramshackle- someone with flaws, attitude, and a disastrous display.
Yet at this moment, all he could think about was just how beautiful you looked, too.
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delusionalwriterr · 2 months
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Gym Buddy
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Pairing: Beefy!Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: You have a hard time keeping your eyes off of your gym crush.
Word Count: 2.3k
Warnings: none
A/N: Shoutout to my gym girlies out there, this one's for you 🫵🏻
Masterlist
———
“What are we hitting today?” your friend asks you as you both enter the gym. You look over to the receptionist and greet him with a smile. Adjusting the gym bag on your shoulder, you turn to your friend and shrug. 
“I was thinking legs?” you suggest as the two of you head to the locker area. You usually go to the gym alone, but today was thankfully one of the rare occasions your schedule aligned with your friend’s so you took this opportunity to invite her to the gym with you— something you used to do back when you were still in college. 
Your friend nods in response before beginning to stuff her locker with the stuff she didn’t need, you mirroring her actions. “Quads, hams, glutes, or all of the above?” she chuckles, pulling out her shaker bottle and scooping in some pre-workout. 
“I did quads last time, are you cool with hams and glutes?” you ask to which she nods again. “But you can do quads if you want.” 
This time she shakes her head, “Nah, you know me. I can never say no to a good glute workout.” She turns to her side and nudges your hip with hers, drawing a chuckle from you. 
You walk towards the workout area, your eyes scanning the room and immediately stopping by the benches. You feel your heart hammer in your chest as you watch him do bench presses— his chest puffing out and leaving no room for imagination thanks to the compression shirt he was wearing. 
Bucky Barnes started going to your gym a few months ago, and to say you were shocked to see him there the first time was an understatement. Not that you were complaining though, but you practically fell off the treadmill you were using when you saw him walk in for the first time donning an oversized shirt, a pair of sweatpants, and a baseball cap. 
Safe to say that he is definitely your gym crush, and you would be lying when you say that you look forward to going to the gym just to see if he was there. 
Your gaze stayed on him as your friend led you to the Smith machine. You glance at his face, eyebrows furrowed in concentration and mouth letting out huffs of breath as he raises the 100kg dumbells above him. 
Goddamn. 
Your attention is brought back to your friend as she begins loading the bar with a few weights to start your first exercise. You snap out of your daze and help her by loading up the other side before finally beginning. 
Taking turns, the two of you did a few sets of back squats, but your mind was definitely elsewhere. You desperately tried not to look at Bucky for too long, afraid that your friend might notice or worse, you get caught by Bucky staring at him. 
“Okay, what’s up? I feel like you left your brain back at home,” your friend joked as you took a break before starting your next exercise. You roll your eyes, taking a swig from your water bottle, ignoring her question. 
Your eyes subconsciously trail to Bucky, once again. This time, he was hunching over the bench as he stared at his phone, chest rising and falling at a steady pace. Your friend follows your gaze and hums in realization. 
“Ah, I see,” she pipes up with a smirk on her face, “you got hots for the Avenger.” 
You laugh softly, turning back to her and shrugging your shoulders. “Guilty as charged.” 
“Why don’t you go for it?” she pesters, causing you to rapidly shake your head. “No way, I’m scared he might just glare at me or something.” 
She scoffs before beginning to look for other plates to load the smith machine. She looks around your area only to find none that would suffice for your next exercise. So she scans the gym in search of heavier plates only to find a stack of 25’s that were conveniently placed beside Bucky. 
She smirks before trudging her way towards him despite your attempts to pull her back. “Come back here!” you whisper sharply, but ultimately give up once she reaches him. 
You see her gently tap Bucky on the shoulder, prompting the super soldier to turn and face her. You feel your whole body tense and your face starts to heat up. You watch as your friend points to the stack of plates beside Bucky and you see him nod and begin to stand up. 
Oh god, is he coming over here? You thought to yourself. Sure enough, you see your friend and Bucky each pick up a plate and head towards your direction. Your eyes briefly meet his, causing you to turn away and act busy by scrolling through your phone. 
You feel your heartbeat quicken as you see them grow closer through your peripheral until they are standing right in front of the machine. “Thank you so much!” your friend smiles as they both load the weights onto the bar. “I would’ve asked my friend to help me out, but the pre-workout hasn’t kicked in for her, you know?” she jokes, earning a soft chuckle from Bucky and a glare from you. 
“It’s no problem,” Bucky says, gaze shifting between the two of you, a shy smile on his lips. “Have a nice workout,” he adds, before heading back over to the benches. 
Your friend turns to you, a wicked smile on her lips. “See? He won’t bite,” she chides, causing you to roll your eyes before heading to the machine to start RDLs. “Unless you’re into that sort of stuff,” she continues, earning a smack on the shoulder from you. 
“I’m never working out with you again.” 
The next few days were not as uneventful as you’d hoped. You thought by going to the gym alone like you usually do would mean that you’d have more time to just subtly watch Bucky from across the room without worrying about any friends that would force you to interact with him. 
But just a few days after your initial interaction with Bucky, you were put in a situation where you had the chance to look at him up close once again. 
You were doing tricep pushdowns on the cable machine when you felt a hand tap you on the shoulder, causing you to jump. You turn around to meet the pair of blue eyes you so desperately gazed at all the time. 
You were frozen in your spot as you took in how attractive he looked in his compression shirt, arms bulging by the sleeves. You were snapped out of your daze when you realized he was talking to you. “I’m sorry, what?” you asked sheepishly, removing one of your earphones. 
Bucky smiled shyly in return. “Are you using the other cable?” he asked, pointing at the machine next to you. You shook your head, heat rushing to your face upon the thought of him working out beside you. “No, go ahead.” 
He smiled again before positioning himself beside you and starting his workout. You tried your best not to get distracted by the godly sight next to you, but you didn’t muster enough courage to talk to him after that. 
The next time you talk was the week after that. You were doing a particularly heavy set of dumbbell shoulder presses (while keeping note of Bucky somewhere behind you doing bicep curls). It was already your third set, and you were aiming to push out 12 reps until you started to feel your weaker arm give out. 
You braced your core harder as you pushed yourself to get the last rep in until you saw Bucky drop the dumbbells he was holding to rush behind you. “I got you,” he mumbled, lightly placing his hands just below your triceps to give you stability. 
You tried to ignore your heart that was hammering in your chest as you were finally able to fully lift the dumbbells over your head. You moved to lower them to put them down, but Bucky suddenly wrapped his hands on your wrists. “All you, give me one more.”
Jesus Christ. 
You pushed yourself one more time, ignoring the pain in your shoulders as you gave it your all. Once you finally put the dumbbells down, you turned to him. “Thanks,” you smiled, which Bucky returned. 
“No problem,” he replied, but before you could say anything else, he was already walking back to his spot to continue his set. You were extra energized to workout that day. 
Which brings you to a week after that. You were just stepping out of your car when you spot Bucky getting off his bike. You subtly watch as he took his helmet off, and revel in the way he tied his hair into a small bun by the nape of his neck. 
God, you were down bad. 
You were too busy trying not to drool and fail to notice that he was actually staring back at you. It wasn’t until he gave you a shy nod when you snap back to reality and return the gesture but throwing him a sheepish wave. 
“What are you training today?” he calls out as he watches you take your gym bag from the trunk of your car and slung it on your shoulder. “Oh, I’m doing pull today. What about you?” you ask, silently hoping he was planning to do the same. 
“Mind if I join you?” he asks which practically made your heart do backflips. Trying to hide your giddiness, you give him a short nod as you and him begin to make your way inside the gym. 
You enter and greet a few familiar faces as Bucky follows suit before stopping in front of the lat pulldown machine. “Are you okay with starting with this?” you ask. 
“What, no warm up?” Bucky asks in return, prompting your cheeks to heat up. “I don’t warm up,” you start, “And before you lecture me, I know it’s bad… I’m just too lazy to do it.”
He chuckles softly at this as he begins to take off the sweatshirt he was wearing to reveal that he was wearing a muscle tee underneath, leaving almost no room for imagination. “S’okay. I’m too lazy to warm up sometimes too.” 
You laugh as you take a seat in front of the machine, pick a favorable weight, and begin your set. You weren’t going to lie to yourself, the thought of Bucky Barnes standing just beside you to watch you do your set was both nerve wracking and motivating at the same time. Sure, you wanted to impress him with the amount of reps you could push out, but the way he was staring at you was also making your knees grow weak. 
Thankfully, you finish your first set with minimal struggle before standing up and gesturing for him to go next. “That seemed a little too easy for you,” Bucky began, “I know you can lift heavier than that, doll.” 
You try to ignore the way your stomach flipped upon hearing the pet name and reply with a playful scoff instead. You take a swig from your bottle as he starts his set. While lifting the whole stack, you admire the way his back muscles expand and contract without focusing too much on the soft grunts that were leaving his mouth. 
Did it suddenly get too hot in here? 
After a few more workouts and taking turns checking each other out, you both decide to end the day with a set of hammer curls. You watch in awe as he begins to work with a pair of 80kg dumbbells, making your weight look puny. 
“If you don’t mind me asking,” you huffed as you continue your set. You see him slightly turn his head towards you in acknowledgment. “Given that you literally have a serum that makes you… you know, strong enough to lift a truck—“ he laughs at that, “why do you still work out?” 
He ends his set and places his dumbbells back on the rack. “Well it sort of feels like therapy for me. When I go to the gym, it’s like— are you done with these?” he stops, pointing at the dumbbells you placed down while he was talking. You nod and before you could protest, he picks up the pair with one hand and places them back on the rack for you. “Anyway, when I go to the gym, I can forget about everything, you know? It feels nice to leave the rest of the world behind and pretend like everything is normal in my life,” he finishes. 
Bucky lifts his metal arm in front of him. “This doesn’t really help with that though,” he adds, letting out a sad laugh. Your heart clenches at his sentiment, but before you know it, you blurt out, “Do you wanna get coffee after this?”
You widen your eyes at your sudden forwardness. A few weeks ago, you could barely approach him to ask help in re-racking weights, but you also never really imagined you would one day do pull with him, too. So this was sort of like a seize the day kind of thing. 
Bucky, too, was caught off guard with your invitation. He never really talked to anyone when he went to the gym, preferring to just keep to himself, but there was something about you that pulled him closer. Maybe it was how friendly you were with everyone in the gym or how he saw you continuously push yourself to your limit in every exercise you do, but he was always intrigued by you. 
His therapist told him to step out of his comfort zone more, so with a smile, he replies, “Only if you let me be your gym buddy from now on.” 
Your smile reaches your ears as you offer him your hand, which he gladly took, “Deal.” 
———
A/N: This really gives off crack energy, but hope you liked it either way ◡̈
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eelhound · 5 months
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"I think Homer outwits most writers who have written on the War [fantasy archetype], by not taking sides.
The Trojan war is not and you cannot make it be the War of Good vs. Evil. It’s just a war, a wasteful, useless, needless, stupid, protracted, cruel mess full of individual acts of courage, cowardice, nobility, betrayal, limb-hacking-off, and disembowelment. Homer was a Greek and might have been partial to the Greek side, but he had a sense of justice or balance that seems characteristically Greek — maybe his people learned a good deal of it from him? His impartiality is far from dispassionate; the story is a torrent of passionate actions, generous, despicable, magnificent, trivial. But it is unprejudiced. It isn’t Satan vs. Angels. It isn’t Holy Warriors vs. Infidels. It isn’t hobbits vs. orcs. It’s just people vs. people.
Of course you can take sides, and almost everybody does. I try not to, but it’s no use; I just like the Trojans better than the Greeks. But Homer truly doesn’t take sides, and so he permits the story to be tragic. By tragedy, mind and soul are grieved, enlarged, and exalted.
Whether war itself can rise to tragedy, can enlarge and exalt the soul, I leave to those who have been more immediately part of a war than I have. I think some believe that it can, and might say that the opportunity for heroism and tragedy justifies war. I don’t know; all I know is what a poem about a war can do. In any case, war is something human beings do and show no signs of stopping doing, and so it may be less important to condemn it or to justify it than to be able to perceive it as tragic.
But once you take sides, you have lost that ability.
Is it our dominant religion that makes us want war to be between the good guys and the bad guys?
In the War of Good vs. Evil there can be divine or supernal justice but not human tragedy. It is by definition, technically, comic (as in The Divine Comedy): the good guys win. It has a happy ending. If the bad guys beat the good guys, unhappy ending, that’s mere reversal, flip side of the same coin. The author is not impartial. Dystopia is not tragedy.
Milton, a Christian, had to take sides, and couldn’t avoid comedy. He could approach tragedy only by making Evil, in the person of Lucifer, grand, heroic, and even sympathetic — which is faking it. He faked it very well.
Maybe it’s not only Christian habits of thought but the difficulty we all have in growing up that makes us insist justice must favor the good.
After all, 'Let the best man win' doesn’t mean the good man will win. It means, 'This will be a fair fight, no prejudice, no interference — so the best fighter will win it.' If the treacherous bully fairly defeats the nice guy, the treacherous bully is declared champion. This is justice. But it’s the kind of justice that children can’t bear. They rage against it. It’s not fair!
But if children never learn to bear it, they can’t go on to learn that a victory or a defeat in battle, or in any competition other than a purely moral one (whatever that might be), has nothing to do with who is morally better.
Might does not make right — right?
Therefore right does not make might. Right?
But we want it to. 'My strength is as the strength of ten because my heart is pure.'
If we insist that in the real world the ultimate victor must be the good guy, we’ve sacrificed right to might. (That’s what History does after most wars, when it applauds the victors for their superior virtue as well as their superior firepower.) If we falsify the terms of the competition, handicapping it, so that the good guys may lose the battle but always win the war, we’ve left the real world, we’re in fantasy land — wishful thinking country.
Homer didn’t do wishful thinking.
Homer’s Achilles is a disobedient officer, a sulky, self-pitying teenager who gets his nose out of joint and won’t fight for his own side. A sign that Achilles might grow up someday, if given time, is his love for his friend Patroclus. But his big snit is over a girl he was given to rape but has to give back to his superior officer, which to me rather dims the love story. To me Achilles is not a good guy. But he is a good warrior, a great fighter — even better than the Trojan prime warrior, Hector. Hector is a good guy on any terms — kind husband, kind father, responsible on all counts — a mensch. But right does not make might. Achilles kills him.
The famous Helen plays a quite small part in The Iliad. Because I know that she’ll come through the whole war with not a hair in her blond blow-dry out of place, I see her as opportunistic, immoral, emotionally about as deep as a cookie sheet. But if I believed that the good guys win, that the reward goes to the virtuous, I’d have to see her as an innocent beauty wronged by Fate and saved by the Greeks.
And people do see her that way. Homer lets us each make our own Helen; and so she is immortal.
I don’t know if such nobility of mind (in the sense of the impartial 'noble' gases) is possible to a modern writer of fantasy. Since we have worked so hard to separate History from Fiction, our fantasies are dire warnings, or mere nightmares, or else they are wish fulfillments."
- Ursula K. Le Guin, from No Time to Spare, 2013.
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sansaorgana · 5 days
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— STILL PURE
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PAIRING — Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader
SUMMARY — Feyd yells at his daughter for interrupting him at work. His wife confronts him about his behaviour as she tries to explain to the little Countess that her father was never taught how to express love.
REQUEST — (1)
AUTHOR’S NOTE — Feyd is already the Baron in this fic but I assumed women cannot inherit on Giedi Prime so the daughter is "only" a Countess while her younger brother is a Na-Baron. I used my headcanon that if half-Harkonnen children have hair, then they're white because they lack pigment. I also wanted her to have big black Harkonnen eyes so badly... Basically, I wanted Feyd's daughter to look like this:
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WORD COUNT — 2,990
ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.
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STILL PURE
Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen was circling around the big table in the conference room where the huge orb of Giedi Prime had been replaced with Arrakis’ one as one of his advisors was explaining the difficult situation regarding the spice production. The new wave of Fremen rebels who worshipped the long gone and deceased Muad’Dib decided to continue their idol’s legacy as they sabotaged the spice production controlled by The Harkonnen forces. The Governor of Arrakis was slowly losing control over the situation and Feyd would rather avoid going there himself. He was needed on Giedi Prime – especially now when The Emperor was on his deathbed. He had to be around in case something important would happen and everyone knew The Baron had his eyes set on the Imperial Throne. Feyd had to choose a new Governor of Arrakis or provide the current one with good advice, hoping for the Fremen problem to disappear soon. It was worrying him because it was giving him a bad reputation at the moment for having problems on Arrakis – it could make some leaders of the great houses to think he was not worthy enough to become the next Emperor.
Feyd’s hands were clasped behind his back as he circled like a shark and all his advisors looked down, taking a step back whenever he approached them. They knew his temper would only rise when he was angered whenever he would experience problems of such nature when it came to reigning over The Harkonnen properties.
“What does the Fremen leader say? Stilgar? That was his name?” Feyd barked at one of the scared advisors.
“Stilgar says he has no control over the cultists. He does not support their actions. He wants nothing but peace, my Lord,” the man bowed his head.
“How bad is it? The most important thing so far is to keep the problem on Arrakis a secret,” Feyd hummed to himself.
“Five percent of the decrease in the spice production income,” the other advisor answered. “Not bad, but can be noticeable in the amount we export.”
“We shall export some of our own private reserves to cover the loss. In the meantime, we have to deal with the cultists,” Feyd decided, already annoyed at the fact he had to sacrifice his own supplies just to cover up the careless governing of Arrakis which was not his fault. “Send more troops there, the operation should be classified confidential. Threaten Lord Volonov to take care of it. He’s got a month before I replace him with someone more capable…”
Quiet pat pat pat sound coming from the corridor was becoming louder and louder until the black doors finally opened slightly and the guard standing by them spotted a pair of two big black eyes staring up at him. 
“My Lord,” he tried to catch The Baron’s attention but Feyd had his back turned on him as he angrily explained the details of the operation to his advisors.
Little Countess Sevina Harkonnen gave the guard puppy eyes as she struggled with the heavy doors. She wanted to come inside and he didn’t know what to do. He was aware that his Lord Baron did not want to be interrupted but he didn’t want to close the door in the girl’s face either. He peeked outside but there was no servant around and The Baroness was not there either. He decided it would be better for the girl to come inside instead of letting her roam around the fortress alone.
She smiled widely at him and jumped inside the room happily as her white hair bounced. She was lucky enough to inherit most of her mother’s looks although her skin was paler, her hair lacked pigment and her pupils were nothing but two completely big black orbs – those were the eyes even her father did not have but they were a result of the pollution her mother’s body had been exposed to on Giedi Prime at the time of her pregnancy.
Not realising how tense the atmosphere in the room was, she approached her father as all the advisors and servants were making wide eyes at her. She stood behind The Baron and pulled on his shirt to make him turn around.
At first, he flinched at the odd feeling of someone pulling him. Who would dare to do that? He turned around quickly with an angry expression on his face but then he looked down and spotted his little daughter. She startled a bit at the sight of his annoyance but she kept staring at him with her big black eyes filled with love and excitement.
“What are you doing here?” Feyd barked at her.
“Can you play with me, daddy?” She pleaded with a big grin.
A few lords smirked at that and Feyd’s jaw clenched. Not only had she interrupted him but also humiliated him.
“Can’t you fucking see that I’m busy?!” He lashed out at her and she took a step back as her eyes filled with tears and betrayal. “Get out of here!” He pointed at the doors.
They opened at that very moment as the nanny entered the room and looked around, surprised at the sight of scared faces and the little Countess being in the centre of attention.
“There you are!” She opened her arms at the sight of the girl. “I’ve told you not to interrupt your father, he’s in the middle of a meeting,” she reminded nervously as the girl ran up to her and hid her face in the folds of her skirt. “Forgive me, my Lord,” the nanny bowed her head at Feyd-Rautha.
“You’re useless,” he drawled. “Get out.”
“Y-yes, my Lord,” the woman held Sevina’s hand and walked out as quickly as possible.
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You left the nursery where your son na-baron had just fallen asleep. On your way back to your chambers, you passed by the doors leading to your daughter’s room and you froze at the muffled sound of sobbing. Concerned, you decided to enter without knocking.
Little Sevina was crying on her bed as the scared nanny tried to calm her down by rubbing her back and shushing her.
“What is going on?” You asked as the doors closed behind you.
“M-my Lady Baroness,” the nanny stood up and straightened herself to bow down slightly.
“What happened? Why is she crying?” You asked her in an accusing tone.
“I… I lost her out of my sight when we were playing earlier today, I’m sorry… I found the young Countess in her father’s conference room. She had interrupted The Baron during a council… I think he lashed out at her, my Lady…” the woman tried to explain nervously as her hands shook.
“You’re useless,” you sighed and she widened her eyes. “Get out, I’ll deal with that myself,” you pointed at the doors and she bowed down once again before leaving quickly.
You approached the bed and sat on the edge of it as Sevina raised her head to look at you. Your heart squeezed in your chest at the sight of her cheeks covered in tears.
“What happened, sweet darling?” You asked her gently while you caressed her back.
“Why doesn’t daddy love me?” She asked with so much pain and sincerity in her tiny, shaky voice that you nearly cried yourself.
You knew it wasn’t true. Feyd-Rautha loved his daughter. Even though he had been a bit disappointed she was not a son in the beginning – he had only said not to worry about it much; that the boy would come next. He had been treating Sevina as if she was made of glass in the first months of her life, so scared of accidentally hurting her because hurt was all he knew.
“Oh, Sevina, don’t think that…” You sighed and leaned in to kiss her forehead. “Daddy loves you so much,” you assured her but of course she wasn’t convinced. “He would kill and die for you, little girl,” you added.
“I don’t want him to kill and die for me, mummy,” Sevina sobbed as those were the concepts she was too young to grasp. “I just want daddy to play with me.”
“He doesn’t know how to play, Sevina,” you fixed her ruffled hair while trying to explain calmly. “He didn’t have a mummy or daddy when he was your age. The way I kiss you or hug you and play with you… He has never had it, darling,” you felt a few tears streaming down your cheeks. You were angry at your husband for yelling at your daughter and making her feel unloved but you were also angry at all the suffering that he had gone through in his past.
There were scars and damages that could never be undone, no matter how much you loved someone.
“And you’re big enough to know that daddy shouldn’t be interrupted when he’s working. You know that he tends to get angry more easily then,” you reminded her. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
“I wanted daddy to play with me,” she snuggled closer to you and you kissed the top of her head, rubbing her tiny arms with your thumbs and cradling her softly to calm her down.
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Feyd had been back in your chambers already when you entered. You froze at the sight of him, irritated. However, he seemed to act as usual.
“Five percent,” he snapped at you, although not angrily. “We will have to replace the loss with our own supply so the other lords don’t realise we are expecting problems on Arrakis. That stupid son of a bitch Volonov can’t handle a few cultists and…”
“I don’t care about any of that,” you interrupted him and turned your back on him to approach your vanity table and sit by it, pretending to be more interested in reapplying the powder.
“What?” Feyd was visibly surprised as he watched you in disbelief. You had always been a support for him, especially in difficult times. You both had been plotting on how to take over the Imperial Throne and now you weren’t interested in something as important as the problems with harvesting spice on Arrakis? It didn’t make sense to him.
You ignored him and focused on brushing your hair now, watching him from the corner of your eye in the reflection of the mirror of your vanity table. He approached you, hesitantly.
“What do you mean you’re not interested?” He tilted his head as he leaned in, trying to intimidate you but you didn’t even flinch.
“I’ve just spent an hour calming down Sevina. You yelled at her,” you eventually looked up to look deep into his eyes. He took a deep breath in, irritated.
“She should have learnt by now not to interrupt me,” Feyd straightened his back and walked away. “She’s spoiled,” he added. “Knows nothing about discipline. It’s your fault.”
“She’s a little girl,” you turned around. “You can’t expect military habits from her. She’s your daughter, Feyd.”
“She’s lucky I only yelled. If I interrupted my uncle as a child like that, I’d be punished!” He raised his voice at you, frustrated that you were defending your daughter and making a problem out of something that he considered to be normal.
You hated it when he would raise his voice at you. You stood up angrily and yelled as well.
“Oh, so you think she should be raised the same way you were?!” You asked. “Alright then! Go to her room, grab her by the neck and flog her back with a whip just because she wanted to play with her father!” You pointed at the doors furiously as your eyes were burning with wrath. “Go on! I dare you.”
But Feyd didn’t even move. His jaw was clenched as he was staring at you speechlessly.
“Go. What are you waiting for?” You kept pushing him. “Go on.”
You kept looking into his eyes with so much intensity he eventually gave up and looked down, awkwardly as the guilt started to creep in. You won.
“You rejected her. She thinks you don’t love her,” your voice calmed down but it was still vicious. “And I was assuring her that you do but it felt as if I was assuring myself, too,” you added, just to hurt him. “I can’t stand to look at you, Feyd-Rautha,” you drawled and approached the doors to leave him alone but not without striking the final blow. “I can’t believe I wanted to give you children so badly,” you turned your head to look at him as he looked up, surprised at your words, “because you don’t deserve them.”
The doors opened in front of you and you walked out to go back to your daughter.
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You were sitting on the black fluffy carpet in the middle of Sevina’s room. She was on your lap, with her tiny arms around your neck, cuddling you. There were toys scattered all around the floor but she wanted to take a break for the loving cuddles. She was very unusual for a half-Harkonnen and you were very aware of the fact she was making most people around feel uncomfortable.
Not only her father but everyone in the fortress were stiff around sweet little Sevina who was so full of life and curiosity, always wanting to hug everyone – even servants and guards. Wherever she went, there was a sound of laughter and a sudden feeling of warmth. Countess Sevina Harkonnen was the very first little girl living in that fortress in a long time and she was so different from all its inhabitants. She was too young to know that she was a daughter of Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen – a man feared all over the Empire. That her bloodline was cursed with death and violence. She was still pure and innocent. Perhaps she was a living proof that The Harkonnens were not born this way after all – but they were made in the endless cycle of abusive upbringing. You did not want the same fate for her. You knew she would have to get rougher with time but you hoped she would still remain gentle, too.
The doors to her room opened and you looked up. At the sight of your husband, you protectively put your arm around your little girl. You doubted that he wanted to do what you had angrily suggested before but you wanted to make sure he wouldn’t anyway. Sevina stiffened at the sight of her father and clung to you. It brought you pain to realise that at that very moment she was afraid of him.
“Sevina, we have to talk,” Feyd stood above you two as he started in a serious tone. You gave him a scolding look and your little girl hid her face in the crook of your neck, hiding. “You know perfectly well not to interrupt me while I’m working.”
Long silence occurred. You could see Feyd’s struggle as he had no idea what to do to fix this situation between him and his daughter.
“Sevina, apologise to daddy,” you looked down and she looked up with tears in her big black eyes. “You shouldn’t have interrupted him and you know that, darling,” your voice was soft and calm and she sniffed.
“I’m sorry, daddy,” Sevina turned her body around to face him but she refused to look at him.
“Now, you apologise to Sevina for being mean,” you looked up at your husband and you spotted panic in his eyes. “Now,” you insisted sternly.
“I’m sorry for being mean to you,” Feyd crouched down to be on her level. She hesitantly looked at him. “Can I get a hug, too?” He asked and his voice broke a tiny bit. 
Slitting someone’s throat open was less awkward and unusual to him than to ask for a hug. Your heart ached for him but you were an adult capable of understanding his patterns. Sevina was not. 
Her heart was big, though, and she loved her father, so she would forgive him everything. She nodded her head with a happy smile and ran into his arms to squeeze him tight. Tears pricked your eyes at the sight.
“I love you, darling,” Feyd whispered quietly with his cheek pressed to the top of her head. “I would kill for you. I would die for you,” he confessed.
“But she doesn’t want any of that,” you explained. “She just wants you to spend time with her.”
“Is that right?” He looked down at his little girl and she looked up with her puppy eyes as she nodded. Her tiny hands reached out to cup his face.
“I love you, daddy,” she assured him. “Can you play with me?”
“I don’t know how to play, I’m sorry,” he admitted with guilt in his voice.
“I will teach you,” she hugged him again.
Feyd put his arms around his little girl and pulled her closer. You crawled on the carpet to give him a hug, too. You could feel that he was slightly trembling, so you leaned in to place a kiss on his temple as your hand caressed his head soothingly.
“It’s not weak to show affection,” you reminded him in a whisper. “I’ve never loved you more than when you are like this.”
Feyd laid his eyes on you. They were filled with a mix of pain, guilt and relief. At the end of the day, the only approval he was seeking was yours. You had him wrapped around your little finger.
“So, how do you want to play?” He asked Sevina as he caressed her white hair with admiration. She clapped her hands cheerfully.
“I want to be a Princess,” her eyes sparkled. “And you’ll be my guard.”
Feyd chuckled at that, showing off his black teeth. Sevina giggled as she had never found them scary.
“Soon enough, my darling one, you’ll be a real Princess,” he assured her.
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MASTERLIST
809 notes · View notes
elexaria · 3 months
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price is a good influence on the boys, always keeping them in line. its almost like theyre his boys, he doesn’t pass up the opportunity to talk about them with a proud growl in his voice. they dont know this, but he even has a tattered photo of the four of them in his wallet. he’s never settled down, never had kids, so even if theyre only around a decade younger than him, they’re like his own.
well, he’s almost always a good influence on the boys.
the new bit around the military campus, she’s a sight for sore eyes. the capt can’t help but clear his throat, one arm around her shoulder so casually. he’s a charmer, that’s for sure. “don’t let ‘em paw at you, yeah? you tell ‘ol pricey if these dogs bark at you, love, and i’ll let ‘em know who holds the reigns here.” he purrs in her ear, the rough timbre of his voice is enough to make anyone’s blood run hot.
the boys know better than to try and cuckhold price, after all, he’s kind enough to let them watch him as he flirts with the lil honey on base. their eyes watch keenly as he squeezes her arse as she passes by, a smug grin on his lips as she turns around with a playful gasp. he’ll turn his head, nodding with a grunt at the boys. “y’see that, lads? like putty in my hands, she is.” he remarks, and the boys guffaw like a group of schoolboys at how cool he is.
it gets even better when, after a year of casual dating, his lil lady agrees to let the boys in behind closed doors. “just let ‘em watch, yeah? poor boys dont get much action, it’s for morale i ‘spose. keeps ‘em fit and fired up.” he murmurs lowly in her ear, quiet enough only for her to hear. their dance is as old as time, his large hands dancing around her soft skin. her moans are like a siren’s call to the boys, it gets the hairs at the nape of their necks standing. hell, that’s not the only thing that stands to attention when price parts the glistening folds of her cunt, chuckling as he steps back to nod his head at the boys. “stunning, ‘ent she?” he growls out, a smug grin on his face as he leans on his side, dipping two fingers inside of her slowly while his thumb toys with her clit.
my god, you can HEAR the boy’s heavy breathing as they watch price toy with his girl, and johnny’s the first one to break the awkwardness by rubbing his erection through his jeans discreetly. price notices, and raises his eyebrows. “lads, the missus doesn’t mind if you rub one out. do you, sweetheart?” he coos as he crooks his fingers up inside of her, jamming the pads of his fingers up into the spongy spot where she likes it. she gasps, nodding as she looks over at how quickly the lads begin to unbuckle their belts, their cocks quickly springing up out of their confines. a symphony of grunts that harmoniously blend together with her gasps and mewls, and all are at the mercy of price. he continues to toy with her, to prolong her pleasure until, and it doesn’t take long, until the boys cum right then and there— thick ropes of cum spurting into their fists.
with a chuckle, price rises to sit on the bed, his hand now gently rubbing against her folds in a teasing manner. “right, bugger off you bunch of reprobates. give us some privacy, yeah?” he chuckles, motioning towards the door as they’re all quick to tuck their spent cocks in the waistbands of their boxers, quickly scampering off at the call of their captain.
the next morning, they’ll all sit round a small table, making comments about how good price is, how lucky they are to have seen that performance. “he deffo would let us shag her if we asked, ye ken.” johnny says quietly, leaning in close to the lads in a conspiratorial manner.
“johnny, stop thinking with your dick.” simon gruffly replies, shaking his head as to dismiss the silly notion.
“yeah, no way would he let us.” gaz agrees, a defeated sigh escaping his lips as he leans back in his seat. “she was fit, though.” he chuckles, rubbing his face as they all begin to impishly laugh at the memory.
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kamiversee · 1 month
Text
➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏
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✧.* CHAPTER 48 || The Drama (part 3)
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[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?
[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, semi-angst, & heated tension.
[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 5k
[ { A/N } ] ➤ Prepare to drop your jaw a few times and possibly take a TikTok break or two ^.^
[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.
[ [ chapters mlist } ]
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——YOUR EYES LOCK WITH Geto’s and his eyebrows immediately rise, the two of you equally surprised to see each other.
Please pretend not to know me, please pretend not to-, “Heyy Gorgeous, what’re you doing here?” Geto greets you, completely forgetting about Yuki who he initially came to meet.
Dammit Suguru, you had one job. Squeezing your eyes shut for a moment, you sigh heavily, “Uh, Hi Suguru…”
Of course, alarms are going off in Choso’s head from the moment he heard a guy’s voice refer to you as gorgeous, quickly turning his head to see just who the fuck you were talking to. He disliked how quickly he got jealous but he couldn’t help himself sometimes, especially when he recognized the face of the man who’d approached the table.
Geto sends a smile to Yuki before taking a seat beside her and across from you. Your heart rate is all over the damn place. How the fuck are you gonna get out of this situation?
Wait no, calm down, Geto wouldn’t say anything crazy right…?
Yuki smacks Geto’s arm playfully as soon as he sits down, “Took ya’ long enough, I was here for like an hour waiting on you!”
Geto rolls his eyes, “You’ll live.”
“Tch,” Yuki scoffs before placing a hand on his shoulder and looking at you, “Well, I would introduce you two but it seems you guys already know each other.”
“Uh,” You’re sweating and you don’t miss how Choso’s staring at the side of your face, “Yeah, we know each other.”
Geto leans back into his seat, comforting himself as he parts his legs and locks eyes with you, “Oh we definitely know each other.”
You grit your teeth. This is going to go so horribly…
Yuki, oblivious to it all, then looks at Choso, “And what about you, Cho? You know this guy too?”
Choso looks at Geto and Geto looks at Choso.
There’s some kinda tension you sense, “Yeah,” Choso scoffs, “I know his shitty ass brother.”
Your brows furrow and you look at Geto, “You didn’t tell me you had a brother.”
Geto chuckles at Choso, “Yours isn’t any better than mine,” He says before returning his sights to you, “And I didn’t tell you because he’s annoying and there was never any reason for me to bring him up.” He explains with a shrug.
You pout, “Still would’ve been nice to know…”
“He’s a weirdo, you wouldn’t like him anyways,” Geto claims.
Choso’s looking at you again, a million thoughts running through his head as you oh so casually talk to Geto. He studies your body language, watching how you sit back and fold your arms under your chest, still pouting.
Do you even realize how you look in the eyes of others? Are you actually aware of how flirtatious your movements come off as? Choso dislikes how blind to your own actions you seem.
Yuki clears her throat, “Anyways guys,” She begins, “Now I’m really curious! Geto, how do you two know each other?” She questions you and the raven-haired man across from you.
Again, the two of you meet eyes and you send him a look. Does he catch this look? Yes and no. Yes, he can tell something’s off but no, that doesn’t stop what comes out of his mouth.
“Hmmm,” He hums in thought before leaning forward to rest his chin in his palm as he refuses to break eye contact with you, “Should I tell our story or should you?” Geto purrs in that pretty tone of his, smiling tauntingly at you.
You hate the way it flusters you too as memory after memory after memory floods your brain, “I mean, t-there’s not much of a story to tell, is there?”
The male tilts his head, completely ignoring the death stare he’s receiving from Choso as his eyes remain on you, “We met through…” He pauses, carefully picking his words, “A friend,” Geto explains.
You nod, your nerves dying down just a little bit, “Right, and then uhm…”
“Then we got close,” Geto continues for you before turning to Yuki, “And became really good friends.”
The sigh of relief you let out doesn’t fail to catch Choso’s ears— he could tell there was more to this story. There was obviously so much sexual tension just oozing from Geto’s eyes every time he looked at you and Choso wasn’t exactly going to let that slip past him.
“Really good friends, huh?” Choso echos.
Your heart jumps and you turn to the man, “Yeah…”
Geto moves his gaze over to Choso and smirks, “Yeah, really good friends.”
The snarky attitude coming from Geto did nothing more than piss Choso off, “That’s it? Just friends?”
The male across from you moves to fold his arms over the table and leans forward a bit, his brows knitting together and a cocky smile spreading across his overly handsome features.
“Just friends…” He repeats, his eyes unwavering as he maintains the visual hold with Choso.
You sigh but your next breath is caught in your throat within seconds.
“…Who fucked from time to time,” Geto added on.
Silence floods the table.
Your face goes hot and your heart sinks past your toes and to hell with how nervous you become. A vein pops out in Choso’s forehead, Yuki’s eyes are wide and she’s got an amused smile on her face, and Geto’s sitting there with a smug expression as he continues to stare Choso down.
“Holy fuck!” Yuki bursts out laughing, breaking the tension completely. She began to wheeze and hit Geto’s arm a few times along with the table because of how hard she was laughing.
She’s cackling and choking on her own laughter before she eventually settles down and looks at you, “So you really do have a type!” She breathes.
Your face is burning in embarrassment, shame, and guilt. “I…”
“Dark-haired depressed-looking men, huh?” Yuki recalls, looking back and forth between Choso and Geto, “Oh this is too good.”
Choso glares for a moment longer before he clicks his tongue, sits back in his seat, and nods. He’s ticked off but, in courtesy of you and knowing he’s not your boyfriend, he tries his best to simmer the emotion.
Well, that was until he looks at you, “Friends who fucked? Seriously?”
You look at him, shame flooding your eyes, “I, uh… I-“
“Is he…” Choso’s eyes narrow and he gives you a look.
You’re unsure of what his look meant but Geto interrupted the moment by speaking yet again, “Is there a problem?”
Choso just barely looks at the guy, “If there was it would’ve been solved by now. Calm yourself.” He voices out in a nonchalant tone.
Geto scoffs, “Oh trust me, I’m calm. Are you?” He questions in return as he quirks a testing brow.
Choso sizes him up and down and then nods, “Yeah.”
You hate yourself for thinking it but the two were kinda hot going back and forth like that.
Yuki is barely holding in her laughter, “Okay so wait-,” She snickers, “Lemme’ get this whole thing straight….” Pointing at Choso, she smiles and looks at you, “He likes you,” She says, moving to point at Geto, “And you’ve fucked him?”
“W-Well, I’ve fucked both of them before, actually,” You correct timidly.
“Slut,” Geto mumbles under his breath playfully. He didn’t mean it in a mean way, of course, he knows the truth behind your situation to some extent.
You look at him, “Pervert.”
“Ha!” Yuki huffs, “Damn, how do I get myself involved in this love triangle?”
Choso drags his gaze over toward the blonde, “You don’t because there is no love triangle.” He explains. Then, Choso moves to toss an arm over your shoulder and pulls you to him, “Whatever they had goin’ on is dead,” He claims.
Your brows furrow and you look at Choso as your body is held against his, “Cho-“
He looks at you, “Is it not?”
You swallow your words down, “Y-Yeah, it is but-“
“Ohhh, I get it now,” Geto chimes in, “Thisss is why you stopped hooking up with me.” He points out, “I thought Satoru told you to stop or something-“
“Suguru, please.” You utter through gritted teeth as you look at him with begging eyes.
He raises a brow and his face twists up in confusion, “Please what? I just never knew why you stopped calling me to have sex.” Geto shrugs, “Didn’t know you went and found yourself a new fucktoy-“
A vein pops out along Choso’s jawline and he’s trying so very hard not to snap, “Say somethin’ else.” He challenges the male sitting across from you suddenly.
Geto’s eyes flick over to Choso in an instant and he tilts his head, “Fuck are you gonna’ do? I haven’t said anything wrong, have I? Calm yourself.”
Choso scoffs, “I am calm.”
“You look like you’re about to pop a blood vessel over there,” Geto points out, chuckling a bit, “And I don’t get why either? Are you two dating?”
Choso’s starting to hate that question more and more because the answer is still ‘no’ no matter what he says or does. Therefore making his anger seem dramatic and unprovoked.
You decide to answer, “Not yet.”
That’s when it clicks for Geto that he may have crossed a line or two, “Oh? Well, sorry if I offended your soon-to-be boyfriend,” He says with a huff, finding the whole thing entertaining if anything.
Choso rolls his eyes and turns his head to the side. He wants to leave so desperately. He hates Geto, hates Yuki at the moment, and he doesn’t know what he’s feeling toward you.
“I-It’s fine,” You murmur, mustering up your confidence again, “After all, Yuki and Choso used to fuck so I don’t exactly see a problem here…”
Choso’s eyes go wide and he turns his head to you, “Well Yuki didn’t just go blurting it out and she also doesn’t look at me like she wants to rip me out of my clothes.”
You look at him with your brows pinched together, “Why’re you saying this to me like I told Suguru to go and blurt everything out.”
“Cause’ maybe if you told me about this before it’d be less awkward.” Choso fires back. For the first time ever, he’s irritated with you.
“I did.” You huff out, “We had this conversation months ago.”
Yuki and Geto are watching the two of you go back and forth— Yuki snickering and Geto acting as though he were watching some kinda TV show as he carefully eats one of the forgotten cookies on the table.
“Did we?” Choso questions, cocking an eyebrow.
“The same time you told me about Yuki, I told you about Suguru.” You recall the memory like it was yesterday, “I just never said his name.”
“Yeah,” Choso scoffs and rolls his eyes, “I wonder why.”
Your face twists up in annoyance, “Didn’t seem necessary.”
“How’s it seem now?” Choso asks.
You fall quiet and so does he, both of you simply glaring at one another. His arm is still around your shoulder and both of you are upset with each other for the first time. 
You dislike how he’s acting about this as if you didn’t tell him there were people you slept with before you started talking to him and Choso can’t stand the fact that one of your old flames is at the table openly flirting with you.
“Damn,” Geto purrs, “You guys are in love, aren’t you?”
Both of you snap out of your challenging stares and turn to look at Geto in sync.
He nudges Yuki’s arm, “Look at ‘em arguing like a true couple. Kinda’ cute, no?” He teases. Deep down, Geto was studying the two of you more than he let on.
Yuki nods in agreement, “Hell yeah, even just now I couldn’t tell if they were about to rip each other apart or if they were about to start making out.”
Is that really how the two of you just seemed to others? Are the feelings you both hold of one another that obvious?
“Hah, y’know what…” Choso breathes, turning his attention to you once more, “Is there anyone else I need to know about?”
You freeze up. Every inch of your body just tenses and since Choso’s arm is still over your shoulder, he notices.
“There is, isn’t there?” He hums.
You glance at Yuki and Geto for a split second before meeting Choso’s questioning gaze, “Can we talk about this some other time and not in front of others?”
The male stares at you for a moment, thinking hard about what you just said before nodding, “Fine…”
“Yup,” Geto chimes in, “You two are adorable.” You both look at the man in sync for a second time and he laughs, genuinely admiring your dynamic, “See? Even your movements are synchronized.” 
“Anyway,” Yuki cuts in, “Before this gets too drama-induced, let’s change the subject a bit, yeah?”
All four of you collectively agree upon that seeing as it’d only been a few minutes and things were already going to shit.
Yuki focuses those pretty brown eyes of hers on you, “Though, I did want to ask, you seriously didn’t know Geto had a brother? Thought’ everyone knew that…”
You shrug, “I never really know much outside of what I’m told.”
“Uhuh…” She nods, slowly turning to the man beside her and giving him a nudge with her elbow, “And you didn’t tell her about Kenjaku because…?”
“I already said why.” Geto states simply, “He’s weird and no one likes him.” Then, he makes brief eye contact with Choso, “Well, I guess not no one apparently..”
Choso raises a brow, “Hell’s that supposed to mean?”
Geto tips his head to the side, “You hang out with him, no?”
“He hangs out with me.” Choso clarifies in a way that makes him seem like he’s not too fond of the man they’re talking about.
“Same difference, pigtails.” Geto spits back.
You kick Geto’s leg beneath the table and he winces before looking at you, quickly met with a look of warning. To which, he rolls his eyes.
Meanwhile, you’re also wondering how you haven’t crossed paths with the brother these three seem to be talking about… Or, any of Choso’s friends for that matter.
“Enough about my brother though,” Geto’s leaning back into his seat and he huffs out a sigh, “Heard’ yours almost got arrested last week.”
Your brows furrow and you decide to play innocent for only a moment, “What?”
Yuki starts nodding, “Yeah, I think he tried to kill someone this time-“
“Can we stop talking about him.” Choso requests. However, his words come off as a statement instead of a question.
You look at Choso, “Cho, what’re they talking about?”
The hairs on his body begin to stand up and he feels goosebumps surfacing. Choso keeps his head straight ahead, his eyes down at the table as he realizes he’s never told you about Sukuna.
Of course, you already know about the guy but from Choso’s perspective, you’re completely lost.
“Uhm.” Choso swallows, “I-“
“Wait,” Yuki cuts off, “You didn’t even tell her about your older brother?!” She questions loudly, tilting her head in a disappointed manner.
Choso feels himself shrinking in his seat, “You know why and that demon of a person is not my brother.”
You turn to Choso. If not for the list, you actually wouldn’t have known anything about Sukuna so, for some reason, it kinda upsets you as you think about how he didn’t open up to you about that man at all. And it’s even worse that everyone else seems to know except for you…
“Older brother?” You ask, tilting your head at Choso.
He avoids eye contact with you, “Don’t worry about it.”
Yuki scoffs, “Holy shit, your type is becoming scary consistent here. I mean, two dark-haired depressed lookin’ men who both never bothered to open up to ya’ about their family?” She points out to you.
You play off her words, “Yeah and I’d like to know why. You’ve told me about all your other brothers but failed to mention an older one.”
“He’s not my brother,” Choso repeats, almost as though he refuses to say anything else.
You narrow your eyes at him. Why is he lying about it and denying his relation to Sukuna? “You’re clearly lying and I don’t understand..”
“Just drop it, princess.” Choso sighs, softening his tone with you so that he doesn’t reveal how irritated he’s becoming.
You scoff, “You could at least tell me why you haven’t mentioned him before?”
“And you could at least drop the fuckin’ subject,” Choso curses, his eyes meeting yours.
Unlike earlier when you two bickered, it was getting a bit more serious. Something about the topic of Sukuna irked Choso to no end and whatever it is about their relationship, he didn’t want to share with you.
Naturally, knowing you already have one guy who keeps shit from you, you do not want to deal with another. Plus, this is the last thing you expected from Choso, he usually tells you everything so…
“What’s the big deal?” You ask, your face contorting into something both confused and concerned, “If you have an older brother, I feel like I should know who it is.”
“Right, and I feel like I should know all the guys you’ve fucked but it seems like not everyone gets what they want,” He fires back.
Oh something’s clearly off with Choso because in any other situation, he’d never say such a thing like that to you. Hell, even as the words left his lips, he regretted it but he wasn’t going to apologize just yet— he was too aggravated to do so.
And you, being the woman you are who doesn’t exactly take shit like this from anyone, you allow your tongue to slip just as he did, “Ever consider the possibility that he could be one of them and that’s why I want to know who he is?”
Geto lets out a whistle in complete shock, Yuki’s eyes are as wide as ever and her jaw is dropped, while Choso…
His arm comes off you and he instantly shoots up to his feet, taking a step backward and out of the booth with a face that almost seems as though he’s repulsed by what just came out of your mouth.
“The fuck did you just say?!” Choso shouts, anger taking over his expression at the suggestion of what you just told him.
His brows are tightly knit together, his fists have balled up, and his glare is so damn intense that for a moment, and only a moment, you not only felt fear but also as though you were shrinking under his gaze.
Even so, you still won’t allow Choso to yell at you the way he just did, “First off, calm the hell down, I didn’t say I fucked him, I said it’s a possibility.”
“How? How the hell is that even a possibility?!” He yells again.
“Because I’ve slept around before Choso. I’m not saying I had sex with the guy yesterday, I’m saying that at one point I was a freshman in college and explored myself the same way most people do!” You huff out to him, “So how about you sit the hell down and talk to me like you have some fuckin’ sense?”
He tilts his head at you and his eyes narrow. Choso opens his mouth but then he quickly shuts it. Even through his anger, he could only look at you like this for so long before the sight of your equally upset expression got to him.
His glare lasts for a second longer and Yuki leans toward the table to whisper, “Guys, you’re kinda’ causing a scene here…”
Choso looks around the cafe to see the few other people there looking over at the booth. To which, he only gets even more aggravated, “Fuck are you all staring at?” He spat.
Most of them pretended as though they hadn’t been just staring and returned to whatever they were doing. Meanwhile, you reach a hand over and grab Choso’s wrist before pulling him back into his seat.
For someone who you earlier couldn’t move against, he seemed to be moved by your tug rather easily and was quickly sat back down. He then goes as far as smacking your hand away from him in a way that says he didn’t want you touching him.
And that… that right there was what really did it for you, “I don’t know what the fuck is going on with you, Choso, but I swear you have ten seconds to start explaining shit to me or I’m leaving.” You want him, your tone cold.
Choso scoffs and inches his face toward yours, “I fuckin’ dare you,” He challenges, “Leave me. Go ahead. All you’ll be leaving me for is some asshole who’s treated you like shit.”
Oh his words were so true that they were starting to sting. It was starting to get bad and both of you were on the verge of blowing up on the other.
“Excuse me?” You utter in disbelief.
“Did I stutter? You said there was someone else right? And whoever he is he’s an asshole right?” Choso recalls, “So if you wanna leave then do it. Leave.”
You grit your teeth, “I don’t understand why you’re being like this right now when all you have to do is tell me about your-“
“I’m not obligated to tell you shit about my family,” He cuts off, scoffing afterward, “Cause’ uh, I’m not sure if you forgot but you're not my girlfriend, remember?”
You nod and that agitated smile begins to spread across your face, “Right, and I sure as hell won’t ever be if you don’t explain yourself to me.”
Choso hesitates at the sound of that. You had him there completely. No longer could Choso keep it from you, especially not when the prospect of being your boyfriend was on the line.
Damnit, “My ‘older brother’s’ name is Sukuna,” He finally tells you, tipping his head to the side, “There? Happy now?”
“No, actually.” You murmur. 
Choso grows confused, “And why’s that? What is it now-“
“Cause’ I've had sex with him.” You blurt out.
Okay. It may be confusing as to why you just told him that. You could have lied. Hell, maybe you should’ve lied. But, given the situation, it was in your best interest to put the information out there from now.
When else would you get such an opportunity to do so? And if you later tell him, he’d only be more hurt if you didn’t tell him sooner.
“You what?” Choso breathes. His heart dropped. Anger hadn’t quite struck him yet because he wasn’t sure he heard correctly just now.
“I said I’ve had sex with him-“
Choso shoots to his feet again. His hands go up to his hair and he pushes some of the stray strands back a bit, trying to process what he just heard. “You… Y-You slept with…” His breathing grows erratic and his eyes just barely meet yours, “Tell me you’re joking.”
“I’m not,” You say, your voice small. You could only hold this in for so long. You’d need to get this out eventually, “I-“
“You slept with that piece of shit?!” Choso yells again, almost like he can’t believe his own ears.
Geto tries to defuse the situation, “Hey, quit yellin’, we’ll get kicked out-“
“Don’t fuckin’ talk to me,” Choso fires his way before settling his anger back to you, “A-And you, you had sex with… You… Sukuna? Itadori Sukuna? The one with the face tats and pink hair? O-Of all f-fuckin’ people…” He stammers out.
“I didn’t know he was your brother,” You lie, “A-And again, it’s not like I did this yesterday-“
“None of that matters,” Choso heaves out, “T-That’s not the point. Do you have any idea who the hell you had sex with? Forget that he’s related to me, I don’t give a shit about that part, it’s the person he is and the shit he’s done t-that just makes me so… s-so fuckin’ angry that you’d ever even...”
His words fall off his tongue and he visibly grows disgusted. Though, you weren’t sure if that was directed toward you.
“Okay, wait.” You breathe out, moving to stand up just as he has, “If you’re not upset because I slept with him and he’s your brother then… what is it?”
“You seriously don’t know?” Choso asks blankly, confused how you could be so out of the loop.
You blink, “Obviously not?” Your reaction held nothing but the truth because, honestly, you never knew why people kept calling Sukuna an asshole when he was rather sweet to you-
“So you mean to tell me you’ve never heard anything about Sukuna before sleeping with him?” Choso questions.
You shake your head, “No. A-And from what I experienced he wasn’t a bad guy like he keeps being painted as-“
“Not a bad guy?!” Choso shouts, “Are you fuckin’ dense?”
You grow frustrated that he’s yelling at you in such a way. Sure he technically isn’t in the wrong here but if he’s coming from the perspective that you knew nothing and he never told you, he’s wrong for his reaction.
Had it not been for the list and you were truly confused, which you still somewhat are, Choso would still be wrong for being so angered like this as if you knew any better.
And sure, it was manipulative of you to pretend not to know but you needed to get the important parts of the truth out there and you needed to know why the hell Choso never opened up to you about this before.
“Dense?” You scoff, “No, I’m not fuckin’ dense, Choso. I’m confused. For someone who just loves their brothers, you not only failed to ever tell me about this one but also seemed to forget that I only know so much about the guy. I didn’t date him, I fucked him, that’s two different things-“
“So?” He scoffs, “How do you even sleep with someone like him? I can’t believe you.”
“Choso, what part of I don’t know what kinda’ guy he really is, do you not understand?” You exclaim, “Maybe if you just tell me what he’s done I can understand.”
Choso nods and then clicks his tongue, glancing off to the side for a moment before moving to take a step toward you, “Tell you what he’s done, yeah? You wanna’ know why no one fuckin’ likes him? Wanna’ know why people fear him? Hm?”
“I want to know something-“
“He’s a criminal,” Choso tells you, his voice low as he nears you, “But that’s just the tip of the damn iceberg, princess.”
You swallow hard and Choso steps even closer, “O-Okay, there are plenty of criminals out there, not to defend him of course but I don’t see how that-“
“He’s hit women before,” He explains further as he gets closer to you.
“Bullshit,” You spit. Why did you say it like that? Was there some secret attachment or need to defend Sukuna inside you that you were unaware of?
“Bullshit?” Choso’s right in front of you at this point, “Baby, I’ve seen it with my own eyes.”
“I-“
“And you wanna know what else?” Choso whispers, leaning down to you, “Wanna know what makes him all the more insufferable?”
You swallow carefully, “W-What is it?”
“Well,” Choso tips his head to the side, “Imagine you had a younger stepbrother who you love more than anything in the world, with that younger brother comes an older asshole who not only bullies everyone he knows but also lays his hands on people…”
“Choso, a-are you saying he-“
“Yes.” He cuts off, “Sukuna doesn’t just fight random people, no. His favorite person to beat up on and fucking abuse is his twelve-year-old little brother.”
That’s when it all hits you. You now understand Choso’s hate for Sukuna.
“So, yeah, that’s the guy you fucked,” Choso says finally before straightening himself up, “Not just my older step-brother but also an abusive piece of shit.”
“Choso, I-“
“Nah,” He scoffs, “Save it. If that’s the kinda’ guys you’re into…” Choso simply trails off, he doesn’t even know what to say so he just shrugs, “I dunno’ baby, just… fuck, leave me out of it.”
He doesn’t mean that, does he?
You wish. You wish he didn’t mean that but as you stand there with wide confused eyes, Choso backs away before turning and just leaving.
The cafe is quiet and you didn’t even know what to do at first.
That was until, Geto leans forward against the table and whispers to you, “Go after him, idiot.”
You whip your head around to the man, “Y-You’re the one who brought this all up, y’know…” You say with a trembling voice.
Your emotions are all over the damn place, from regret to sorrow to annoyance to confusion and then even to just plain sadness. 
“Yeah, yeah, I know but the longer you stand there crying, the further he gets and the less time you have to explain yourself.” Geto points out in that soothing tone of his.
Water only wells up further in your eyes and you wish you never told Choso about what you did with Sukuna, “Suguru I c-can’t explain anything to him-“
“Yes you can,” He hums, and based on the look in his eyes, you finally get it.
Geto was acting as though this was all planned out…
“You…” Your eyes narrow, “You did all that on purpose, didn’t you?”
“He’s getting further awayyy,” Geto hums sweetly.
Damnit, you wish you could’ve stayed longer to dissect why the hell he just did all that but, your body moves on its own and you sigh and turn to run after Choso.
“You’ll thank me later!” Geto yells out to you finally.
Would you?
Would you really thank him later? 
Or, was this about to be the end of your relationship with Choso?
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GOJO SATORU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮
GETO SUGURU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮
TOJI FUSHIGURO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢
KAMO CHOSO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢 / 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮
ZEN'IN NAOYA ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙭𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮
ITADORI SUKUNA ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮???
NANAMI KENTO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙙
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mlist || previous chapt || next chpt
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tags;
@blognicole @suguruologist @luqueam @ivoryviness @sinaxalui @rxnnie18 @carlacujo @gods-landing @bitchysouljellyfish @miles4hour @sinaxalui @annananamin @heart-snow @kiyomizzx @hanuh @acehyacinth @mccookiemonster @tojis-ball-sack @cartwheel6869 @mariluvsusstuff @addie1010 @slammynics @actualz0mbie @hisbitchhh @kay-xle @cunttee3 @voids-universe @raininglovelyfire @itsbokutosjuicyass @peaceoutbritta @barbielani @gennaray @r3inae @kfmcykdy @camiihutt @tokina @curtin81937 @hopefullydecent @nameless-shade @ureuphoriasworld @forgetfulmachine @legbouk @lilliaannn @clementineee0-0 @divinelseraph @didibxx
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gracieheartspedro · 7 months
Text
Trash Talk
abby anderson x fem!reader
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description: you and abby anderson go waaayyy back, and she can't stand you. after being distant for years, you can't help but pick on her and get under her skin. you can't help yourself. maybe it's those god damn arms and that cute smile she makes sometimes. so, why not try to bully her enough so she will take you to bed?
word count: 7.1k
warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, nsfw, smut, wlw, some slight bullying, threatening of one's life, murder (reader kills scars), use of guns, dom!abby, fingering, eating out, shower sex, use of a strap on, dirty talk, abby calls reader tons of names, major teasing!!
author's note: first abby one shot. let's goooo! lemme know what you guys think. I really liked writing this and I'm down for any requests for abby or ellie!! love you guysssss <3
“Are you the one braiding your hair every day or do you have some pretty girl do it for you?”
Abby’s head spun over how dumb your questions had been all afternoon. Luckily for her, you were being quiet up until this moment. 
You are propped up beside her on the back of the jeep, your rifle slung across your lap. You were itching to get a rise out her today, it was fun to watch her eyes roll into the back of her head. 
She cocks her gun, her eyes trained forward and away from you. She’s always on edge when you’re out on patrol. Her furrowed eyebrows and tense shoulders made your relaxed and at ease body language look unjustified. 
“I braid it myself,” Is all she says. You train your eyes to watch her muscles flex as she inspects her gun closely. You contemplate your answer, do you ask if she can braid yours next or do you ask if that’s how she got those insane arms of hers. 
You don’t make a decision by the time Manny slams on the breaks, unexpectedly. Abby’s body flies into yours, sliding across the bench and crashing into your side. You wince, snapping your head forward to the road. 
“We got company, chicas!”
You duck when the first shot hits the steel of the car. Abby grabs your waist, dragging you down onto the bed of the SUV. She didn’t want your death on her hands, knowing Isaac would never forgive her for losing his best gunner. You roll away from her grasp, propping your rifle forward where Manny is driving. 
Scars on horseback surround the road in front of you. 
They are easy to take out when they are high up, for you at least. 
“Manny, duck your head!” You holler, glancing back at Abby who’s hand is still somehow on you. She looks conflicted, her gun still loosely in her grip. 
You prop your gun up, aiming at a older man on the closest horse trailing the jeep. He has a bow, which doesn’t move as fast as your bullet. You ease into the trigger, taking out the guy with a head shot. You didn’t have time to think about your reasonings for killing the guy, you never had the time to think about it. You knew that these men would kill Manny, Abby, and you, if they had the chance, so you guess the proper reaction is a bullet to the skull. 
You hear Abby yelling something but your ears are ringing at the sound of you taking out each Scar one-by-one. You don’t even let them get behind the SUV, knowing they would be getting a better shot at you. Once the last one flies off the back of their horse at the impact of your bullet, you sit up. 
You realize that Abby hasn’t fired a single shot. 
“I think we have a flat tire! I’m gonna pull off when I find cover,” Manny explains, his voice loud over the sound of the ringing in your ears. 
Abby sits up beside you, gripping the side of the bench with her left hand. She gets a good look at your completely unfazed face and it pisses her off. You never had a moment to second guess your actions and you never had an honest reaction to killing upward of 7 men. You were always stone cold and even. You weren’t always like that. You used to have some life left in your steely eyes. At least, that’s what she thought. 
You were disassociated from the entire world when put in any situation that could be deemed “dangerous”. It’s almost like a completely different person took over your body. Your reactions were not your own. But when you finally came to, your bones would vibrate with anxiety and adrenaline. You were just a master at disguising it because you didn’t want everyone around you to see you as weak. You can never be weak, again. 
Even if Abby took out that many men, which she has done before, she still walks away with a small inkling of guilt written on her face. You don’t even quiver at the sight of violence and death, not that she sees, anyway. 
But it does eat away at you. You’re plagued with nightmares if you can ever even find sleep at night. Most nights are spent curled into a ball, staring off into space, praying the walls will just cave in and suffocate you. You hardly eat most of the time, the thought of munching on food makes you nauseous. 
Manny pulls into a familiar warehouse that’s usually a stopping point for one of your patrol routes. The jeep is jittering, chugging forward with a scraping noise. You stand up when it completely stops, jumping down from the side. You sling your backpack over your shoulder and your gun strap across your other.
You watch Abby jump down after you, her impact on the ground loud. She stares at you with this annoyed look on her face. 
“What’s wrong, baby girl? Mad you didn’t get a shot off?”
Your tone makes her ball her hands into fists.
“Can you shut your fucking mouth ever?”
Manny chirps in quickly after she says it, “Ay! Quit it you two!”
You bow your head, “Yeah, Abby. You need to blow off some steam. Gettin’ all worked up.”
Manny slaps your shoulder lightly, gesturing you two to get inside the warehouse. You knew you had to clear it before you settled in to discuss the next game plan. You stand there watching Abby strut towards you, her eyes scanning your body up and down. 
She is only a little bit taller than you, but she’s built like an ox. When you two were acquainted, she was about your stature. Now that she needs to prove herself, she bulked up and became even more hot. 
“You’re lucky Isaac needs your ass, because if were up to me, I’d send you straight to the Island and watch them pick you apart.”
Her voice is vicious and you could tell she was pissed at you for teasing her. It only made you smile in sick pleasure. You craved getting under her skin. 
“Love it when you talk dirty to me, Abs.”
She ignores your comment, knowing exactly what you were trying to do. You were doing it so well, too. 
You three creep inside the warehouse, stalking around the open area, ensuring there’s no one nearby to sneak up on you. Your running low on ammo, but you didn’t want to ask Abby for a new magazine. She would bitch you out for not grabbing an extra. With that in mind, you sling your rifle across your back and pull out your pistol. You cock it, which interupts the silence you three had been settling in. 
“A pistol?” Manny questions, quietly. You nod slowly, discharging the magazine to make sure you had a stacked shell. 
You huff, “Yeah, I’m out of hallow points for the rifle.”
Abby stops in her tracks, “You forgot another magazine, didn’t you?”
She wanted so badly to be right, especially when it came to you fucking up. You stare at her as you shove the magazine back into the grip. 
“Eat my ass, Abby.”
She laughs, watching your face fall as you cock the gun again. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
Manny grimaces, “Please, stop, you two. Let’s get this place clear and then figure out what we do next.”
Manny was right. You and Abby separate, both of you trailing up some stairs to the extended area of the warehouse. You check every corner on your side, ensuring no one will be sneaky and catch you all off guard. Once you all decide it’s clear, you meet up at the staircase Manny is walking down.
Manny was a good friend and a rare hookup. You had slept with him a couple times and while he was always a generous guy, he never made you cum. He always joked that it was because you liked girls better, and truthfully, he may be right. He was handsome but he never really did it for you. 
Abby, on the other hand, you and her went way back and she did it for you. Before becoming Isaac’s favorite, you were pretty good friends with her. You two sat together in “school” and she taught you how to make someone pass out by putting them in a headlock. You had confided in her about your past and she was the only one who truly knew everything. You genuinely liked her and wanted so badly to tell her how you felt. But once Isaac took interest in your skill set, he trained you vigorously with his top men. You had no time for anything anymore. It pissed Abby off so much, for some odd reason. You’d think a friend would be proud that the head honcho took interest in you and wanted to make you better. But instead, Abby took it as a personal jab and started ignoring you. When you confronted her, she told you that she was too busy for friends. That, of course, didn’t stop her from having a whole ass friend group without you. When you befriended Manny, he told you that Abby only saw you as competition. 
So you became even better. Not wanting to repeat the same mistake, you kept everyone at an arms length and avoided getting close with anyone. It made you withdrawn, and eventually, you realized you were not meant to be a friend to anyone. You were made to be a killer.  
“So what do we do now? Go back or go to our assigned checkpoint?”
Abby’s training her eyes on Manny and Manny only. She refuses to even glance your direction. You turn your gun safety on and tuck it into your waistband. 
“How far do you think we are from the checkpoint?” You question, crossing your arms across your chest. 
“Too fuckin’ far,” Abby responds, still not looking at you.
You smirk, “Perfect, then let’s do that. Maybe Abby can get her finger on a trigge-“
Before you can finish your sentence, Abby’s reaching out and pulling your body towards her by your shirt. You don’t even flinch, your body just flies forward as she finally stares daggers into you. You like being this close to her, it makes the hair on your arms stand up. 
“I swear to God,” She’s gritting her teeth, “If you don’t stop fucking around, I’ll kill you with my bare hands.”
You press yourself closer to her. Her fist with your balled up shirt grazes your boobs. Manny doesn’t say anything, just rolls his eyes, anticipating your response. You like this game. The one where you tease Abby and she becomes enraged by your words and eventually it comes to a tipping point. She’s always just thrown something, her manhandling you was new.  
“I’d love to see you try, sweetheart,” You mutter, your face millimeters from hers, “I don’t think you’re remembering what our body counts are and who’s surpassing the other by a fucking landslide.”
“I’d love to add you to mine, that’s for damn sure,” She responds quickly, eager to one up you. You giggle at the double meaning that comes to mind. You would like to be on her body count list, for sure.
“Stop it!”
You both shoot a look at Manny who’s nudging you two apart. Abby unhands your shirt, and you step backward away from her, tripping a bit over some broken concrete. She looks you up and down with disgust. 
“You need to stop acting like you’re better than everyone else,” She grumbles, ignoring Manny’s pleas for a truce. 
“You need to stop acting so serious all the time! Get a grip, I’m just fuckin’ with you.”
“I said stop! I knew you guys hated one another but I didn’t know this was gonna be a who’s dick is bigger competition. You both need to relax!”
Abby’s face is twisted and you hated that you found it attractive. God, you wanted to fucking hate her. 
Abby crosses her arms, flexing them right in front of you. She notices your expression change. She knew you had a little crush before, but she thought that feeling was long gone. She shoves the small inkling of optimism that you may still feel that way down.
Manny speaks up again, “We should just head back and tell Isaac we will head back out tomorrow morning. It’s going to be dark in about an hour. It’s too risky.”
“Agreed,” Abby tightens up her folded arms, “If you wanna go out by yourself, you can do that. We can tell Isaac you went awol.”
You smirk at her suggestion, “No, I want to be there to tell him you can’t pull your punches. Be way more satisfying to watch you squirm.”
-
“I’m glad everyone was okay,” Isaac says, his deep voice dropping an octave, “I’ll get more guys to go with you tomorrow morning. You three get back here at sunrise, okay?”
You clear your throat, “Want me to run through how to shoot a gun with Abby before we ship out?”
Manny huffs, “Come on, dude.”
“I think she’d benefit from it,” You say matter-of-factly to Isaac. You can feel Abby’s gaze burning into you. She’s leaning against the door frame, while you are seated in front of Isaac’s sprawling desk. You always felt like he only sat there to seem more authoritative. To you, he was just a man. 
“Play nice, little one,” He stands up from his rolling chair to stand in front of your manspreaded legs, “You still need to prove to me that you’re loyal. Don’t think I forgot about the incident at the hospital last week.”
Your stomach drops while Abby’s ears perk up.
“What happened at the hospital last week?”
Her voice is eager, which only makes you angrier. You adjust yourself in your seat, sitting up straighter. 
“She refused to kill a Scar,” He explains, teetering over you, “She shot a Wolf instead.”
“He demanded I gut a child in front of her mother. I am not going to do shit like that.”
Isaac chuckles before slamming his fist down on the table beside him, “You can and you fuckin’ will. If I get any more push back from you, I’ll get Anderson here to take you out herself.”
You stand up quickly, avoiding everyone’s gazes. You want to throw your knife into his throat, but you know that wouldn’t end well. You didn’t want to have to be on the run again.
Being humiliated in front of Abby and Manny made you feel sick. You hadn’t felt shame in so long, not even when you were reprimanded last week for shooting that guy between the eyes. You were lucky he was just some new recruit and had no family back at the Stadium. Isaac spared you because he needs you. You’re a good asset. 
“We clear?” 
His voice bounces off the wall. You don’t say anything, you just nod slightly and storm out of the office. You hear the door slam behind you as you swiftly walk towards the staircase. There’s men loitering in the hallway, waiting for Isaac to tell them to go kill another Scar. Pathetic, you thought. 
You start to think about how didn’t want to face Abby and Manny tomorrow, but you knew better to ignore direct orders. Maybe a shower would rinse off the disgusting dirty feeling that plagued your skin. 
-
“Didn’t know I was workin’ with a traitor today,” Abby says from behind you. You’re in the community bathrooms, cursing that it’s even a thing because you knew some shit like this would happen. You thought since it was midnight, you wouldn’t have any company. You were, of course, wrong. 
Abby has her towel draped over her broad shoulder and a small container with her soaps. You were just about to strip down and take one of the spickets on the tiled wall when she interrupts your routine.
You swallow hard, not in the mood to argue with her. Even if there’s no one around, you don’t feel like entertaining anymore.
“‘M not a traitor. I just don’t kill children.” 
You had very limited morals, but you drew the line at children. You remember what it was like to watch your friends get picked off by raiders when you were a kid. You remember being horrified hearing the screams of their mothers. You remember the innocence being stripped from you. You can’t stomach the idea of killing someone who has no control over their life or the decisions of others, so you don’t. 
Isaac showed no mercy to any Scar, but you did and he was trying his very hardest to beat that out of you. The only reason you were stuck on the patrol with Manny and Abby in the first place was because he knocked you down to more minor runs and not the intense ones you were on before. It was your “punishment” for disrespecting authority. You were lucky to even have your head after killing that guy in front of other Wolves. 
Abby grumbles something inaudible. 
“You remember when we were forced to watch those daycare kids after not doing our morning mile?” You reflect, thinking back to easier times with Abby, “Imagine one of those innocent kids being gutted by a machete and it’s your own hand doing it. If a child is going to die in the name of some stupid land, I don’t want to be the one holding the weapon. Isaac can have sociopaths like you to do that.”
“Me? The sociopath? If I’m remembering correctly, they gave you the nickname Heartless after your run through on the East side a couple months ago,” Abby’s voice is venmous, “You are the top Scar killer right now. You kill and you don’t even flinch.”
“I kill people who try to kill me,” You grab the hem of your top, pulling it over your head, “I need to protect myself. And whoever I’m with. I’m not given a choice.”
“Was that guy trying to kill you? The one you shot between the eyes?”
You’re silent. She poses a good question, a question you don’t have a good answer for. You turn to face her, and the first thing you realize is her braid is becoming unraveled. You purse your lips, racking your brain for a response after being distracted. The only rebuttal is a question, something that has eaten you alive ever since it started.
“Why do you hate me so fuckin’ much?” 
She cocks her head to the side, “Are you serious right now?”
Deep down, Abby never hated you. She was jealous of you. She wanted everything you had. She couldn’t stand seeing someone be better than her, especially a girl she liked. And you did everything so well. She harbored a secret crush on you for a while, even when she was with Owen. She hated that she liked you and you were leaving her behind to advance up the ranks. She only wanted your attention, truthfully. Now, since she distanced herself from you, everything you did ate her alive. While poking fun at her was your way of flirting, Abby reeled over it every night before bed. How could you be so mean?
“We were friends, Abby. I told you about my family. I told you everything, and as soon as I got in with Isaac, you iced me out. Told me you didn’t need friends,” You huff out, “I knew that was a lie then and I know it’s a fuckin’ lie now because you have friends. Lots of them. Why couldn’t I be your friend?”
“Because I can’t be friends with you!”
Her voice is high pitched, almost shaky. You take a step forward and for once she doesn’t step away from you. You’re in her space, your hip bone millimeters from her hands. Your eyes are trained on her reaction, which is just her eyes averting away from you. 
“Why can’t we be friends, Abs?”
You reach up, grabbing her messy braid softly. She flinches a bit, easing into the idea of you touching her. It’s been a long time since you were this close to her without her resisting. She still won’t look you in the eyes. Your fingers travel down her mousey braid until you’re trailing her collarbone and wide shoulders. As your digits trace her bicep, she finally looks at you for a moment. The tension is palpable, your question still hanging in the air. 
“You’re impossible,” She murmurs, her eyes flicking away again, “And you’re despicable. You think you’re bett-”
“Cut the shit,” Your hand stops right at her wrist and you wrap your much smaller hand around it. You know the real reason she won’t be your friend, it’s written all over her face, “You hate me because you want me, Abby. You always have. Almost as much as I want you.”
“Want is a strong word,” She chirps, “I was in a relationship when we were friends. I had Ow-”
“Don’t even say his fuckin’ name,” Your free hand tilts her head back toward your gaze. You hated that fucker for messing with your Abby, “Can you just indulge me? Admit that the reason you’re pissy with me is because you want me between your legs?”
You can feel her tense up, her jaw going slack. 
“Nah, don’t think that’s what I want,” Her voice finally changes. It’s more sultry, the tone shifting with the conversation. She shakes out of your grip, bringing her hand up to your chin, “Think I need to teach you a thing or two. Shut that stupid smart mouth up for a minute.”
“Oh really?”
“Yeah, you’ve been a fuckin’ bitch and you need to be taught a lesson,” Hearing the words come out her mouth has your core clenching with anticipation. She’s silent waiting for you to agree, but you just stare at her with a smirk. “Do you need me to show you here or do you want me to show you in your room?”
“Why not yours?”
“Because Manny is there. Unless you want to give him a show like the slut I know you are.”
She makes the hair on your arms stand up. She scans your body as you contemplate your options. This is a moment you’d been waiting for, so you can’t fuck it up. You finally have her exactly where you want her. 
You can’t be caked in dirt and grime when she’s devouring you, right?
“I need a shower,” You mutter. It catches her off guard. You swallow before continuing, “I think you need one, too. So, how about we take our showers and then you can walk me back to my room.”
She doesn’t even say anything, just begins stripping off her tank top. She’s sporting a black sports bra underneath and my God, does she look good in only a bra. You have seen her in a bra before, but never with a six pack and huge arms like she has now. She smiles at your gawking. She shoves off her cargo pants, leaving her just in her underwear and bra. 
You finally come to your senses and start stripping as she walks over to one of the shower heads and turns it on. She looks excellent from the back, too, you think. 
“We don’t have all night,” She groans, watching you slowly start undoing your bra, “Hurry up before I change my mind.”
You walk towards the shower head next to the one that’s running for her. She pulls the hem of her bra up and off, revealing her full chest to you. You follow her lead, undoing the back of your bra and letting your breasts free. The water is soaking your feet and you still have your underwear on. It’s almost like a competition as to who can break first and touch the other, and it wasn’t going to be you. You shimmy your underwear off, tossing both your bra and panties to the pile outside of the shower. 
“Jesus Christ,” She howls as you let the water take over your body. Her eyes are glued to your chest, “It’s like they got bigger.”
You sneer at her comment, “I could say the same about you in general.”
“Yeah?” She slips off her underwear, leaving nothing to imagination anymore. She caves first, creeping into your stream of hot water with you and wrapping her large arms around your waist. Chills shoot up every part of your body when her lips dip down to leave open mouth kisses on your shoulder blade. Her hands trail upward from your hips to your stomach to your tits. You watch in disbelief when her massive hands take up most of your boobs. She cradles them in her palms before massaging you tenderly. You’re already a moaning mess, pushing your ass into her crotch. 
“Let’s get you clean since that’s what you want,” She drops your boobs before reaching out for her soap. She starts to lather herself up before her hands return to your buzzing body. You let her hands wander, coating you in her pine soap. You didn’t care for the scent, but it smelled like her and you always wanted that scent on your body. 
She manhandles you a bit before using your arm to twist you around to face her. She’s staring down at you, her pupils dark with desire. You realize her hair is still in a braid and resting on her bare shoulder. While she continues to rub you down, you grab the end of her braid and start to undo it. 
When her wavy hair is released from the hair tie, you realize how long it is now. No wonder she keeps it braided, it must get in her way. 
“May need to rebraid your hair,” You mutter, your hand still dancing around her decolletage.
“I’ll just have you hold it up while I eat you out.”
You smirk as she focuses her attention on pinching and tugging on your hard nipples. You ogle her, unsure how you got here. Earlier she was threatening to kill you, now she’s toying with your body and leaving you the wettest you’ve ever been. She backs you into the water, having you rinse off the suds. 
“Abby,” You finally catch her gaze and her lips are pursed in concentration. She looks at your expression and then it finally happens. She kisses you, feverishly. You almost slip on the wet floor as she aggressively pushes you back against the tiled wall. Luckily, her arm is completely enveloping your hip, keeping you stable against her. Your bodies are wet and burning with desire, eager to touch every inch of each other. Abby pulls away, catching her breath. 
“We need to speed this part up, I need to fuck you.”
You chuckle, wrapping your arms around her neck, “We are having fun though, aren’t we?”
She shakes her head, “Rinse yourself off, no more back talk.”
She pulls away from you, quickly showering herself. You don’t even wash your hair like you need to, you just watch her lather her body up, slowly circling your clit with your middle and pointer finger. She does not even realize what you’re doing until you are moaning in her direction. 
“You’re a dirty little girl, aren’t you?”
She pulls your hand away from your sensitive nub, using you as leverage when she gets on her knees. She’s staring up at you, pulling you forward by your ass. She looks too good at this angle. 
“Please, Abby,” You beg, wanting her to devour you whole.
“Hold my hair, baby. Just like I said.”
She nudges your knees apart, her face centimeters from your dripping core. She uses her long fingers to spread apart your pussy lips, soaking in the fact that she was the one who made you this wet. You reach down, pulling her long locks upward to get them off her shoulders. When she creeps in closer, her tongue is extended outward. As soon as it makes contact with your slit, you throw your head back, your hand full of hair loosening. She works her tongue around your pussy, pressing forward even more. She has her full face in you, her nose poking your clit every time she moves her tongue and lips. 
You’ve never been eaten out like this before. She’s a starved woman, begging you to feed her your sweet juices. Your knees feel like they could give out at any moment, so you grip onto her shoulder to balance yourself. She’s switching between slurping and sucking, her mouth working magic on your senstive pussy. 
Just when you think her head can’t get any better, her fingers enter the equation. She slips her long fingers between your slit, finding your hole after exploring for a moment. She guides one finger into you, then two. She’s groaning into you, watching your body twitch under her touch. She’s fucking you so fast, you can feel yourself teetering over the edge. She switches up her moves, flicking her tongue on your clit and fucking you slower. It sends you into bliss, your mouth agape as you stare down at her pressed against your core. You cry out, trying your best not to let your legs surrender to your weight.
“Yes baby,” She watches you fall apart, her finger tips swiping over your clit fast, “That’s right, cumming apart on my tongue. That’s so hot.”
Your vision is hazy, but you can still make out Abby as she stands up. Her hands rest on your waist as she brings you into a ravenous kiss. You’re still in a daze from your orgasm as she shuts off the warm water behind you. She’s guiding you out of the showers, bringing you back to your clothes and towel. She helps you by wrapping your towel around your center.
“You okay to walk back to your room?” She questions, watching you shakingly dry yourself off. 
You chuckle a bit, “Why? Do you want to carry me or something?”
She gives you a smug look, “Do you need me to?”
You want to smack the expression clear off her face. The freckles that litter her face scrunch in a teasing manner, which makes you melt a bit. You continue drying off before you throw back on your pants and shirt. You would be taking them off within the next two minutes, anyway, but you had to make it through the main hallways. 
Abby does the same thing before she gathers all her belongings and waits for you. As you rake your fingers through your hair, she jokingly starts tapping her foot.
“Can you relax?”
She shakes her head “no”. You roll your eyes, grabbing all your things and leading the way to your room. 
Abby knew your room would be better because you were graced with a room all by yourself. Courtesy of being Isaac’s top dog. 
You were vigilant about keeping a clean suite, always making sure your limited belongings had a place. You did not have people in your room often, so you were a bit nervous to have Abby Anderson in your room. 
She trails behind you closely, grunting every so often to indicate her impatience. Once you're outside your room, you unlock it with the key around your neck. It was easier to keep it on your chain, you hated stuffing your pockets with loose items. 
The cold air hits your skin. You were known for keeping a cold room. You always ran hot at night and you refused to sweat. When Abby walks into your suite, she starts to laugh. You lay down your towel and undergarments. 
“What’s so funny?” You ask, your wet hair sticking to your shoulders.
“You haven’t changed at all,” She grumbles, tossing her stuff in a pile beside your front door. The comment takes you off guard, simply because you spent years trying to be someone different.
“Why do you think that?”
“You are still so Type A,” She’s bounding towards you, stopping centimeters from your still-orgasm-dazed body, “You always run hot. It’s fuckin’ freezing in here.”
She’s cowering over you, her hot breath getting closer to your face. Before she can kiss you, she averts her head to the crook of your neck. 
“You still smell of lavender,” She kisses your pulse point before continuing, “And you need attention or else you’ll die. You thrive off pissing everyone off.”
“Especially you,” You practically moan as she continues to kiss your throat. When you say that, she lifts her head and stares down at you. She’s so symmetrical and beautiful. You loved seeing every freckle, every wrinkle of her nose. The fullness of her pink lips. 
“Especially me, that’s right.”
She pulls you in again, this time using her large hands to push your ass forward, capturing your lips as you melt into her grip. You move fluidly with her direction, peeling off your clothes again and frenching her when her lips slip open. Your tongues battle but you fully submit when she slowly bites down. She’s hungry for more.
You grab onto her forearms, tugging her towards your full size bed in the corner of the room. 
You always kept your blinds drawn, not allowing the large windows to expose your personal space. You’re silently thanking the angels for your obsessiveness because if someone spotted you and Abby right now, it would somehow get back to Isaac. He would have a cow if he found you two messing around. That’s too much of a distraction and you need to focus on the “mission”. 
Well, right now your mission is to make Abby cum.
You two fall on the bed, her hands still resting on the curve of your ass. She groans when you pull away from her lips. You tug at her shirt, gesturing to her to rid herself of her clothes. She obliges and she’s finally naked in your bed. You could die happy. 
You were too caught up in her touching you earlier, now you want to feel her. When the cold air touches her nipples, you notice them stand at attention. You practically fall into her chest, latching your mouth onto her tits, sucking the skin. She moans out, her hips reacting by pressing forward into you. You swirl your wet tongue around her areola, teasing her sensitive nipples. 
“God damn,” She whimpers, her hands exploring your hips. You use your teeth, nibbling slightly as you pull away from her one boob. She falls onto her back, releasing you from her grip. You crawl on top of her, straddling her waist with your thighs. You press your slick entrance on top of her mound, dragging it back and forth, teasing her. 
“You want me to touch your pretty pussy with my mouth?” You ask, resting your hands on her abs. She was so built, just tracing the outline of her 6-pack made you quiver. 
“God yes.”
Her voice is deeper, her pleasure taking over her vocal chords. You grind down on her before you shimmy down her legs and settle between her thighs. You lay on your tummy, lining up your face with her middle. 
She’s dripping, her entrance waiting for your fingers and mouth. You loved returning the favor, especially for women. You got off on hearing a woman chant your name as you alternate between licking and sucking. It would always boost your ego, but now that it’s Abby in your bed? You’ll be satisfied if she’s the last one to ever get in bed with you. 
She talked a big game about “teaching you a lesson” but here you are, shoving your fingers deep inside her and fucking her with your tongue. You smirk at the thought, watching her face twist in delight. You swirl your tongue around her sensitive throbbing clit. You were fed off her reactions, your eagerness to make her feel good increasing the more she cried out. 
You wrap your lips around her clit as you’re three fingers deep, fucking her steadily. As soon as you start the suction on her pussy, Abby is falling apart on your face. It’s a quick reaction, which gives you a bit of an ego boost. You watch her stomach flex, her jaw clench, and her mouth let out a guttural moan. 
Once she catches her breath, you slide off the bed, heading to your side table. You open the drawer, searching for the one thing that Abby could use to teach you a lesson. 
You pull out the black strap on you found a couple months ago at an abandoned sex store downtown. You haven’t used it yet, but you did make the effort to clean it before you tucked it away. This seemed like the perfect time for it to shine. 
You show Abby, her eyes lighting up with excitement. She snatches it from you, giggling as she stands up. 
“It’s like putting underwear,” You explain as she messes with the strap. It was like a thong with a dick attached. Very advanced technology.
“It’s perfect,” She whispers, sliding it over her massively thick thighs. Once she gets it on, it’s kind of silly to look at. Seeing Abby with a massive cock made you chuckle, but instead of following your reaction, it’s like it gave her a newfound attitude. 
It’s like a switch goes off. Instead of slowing down after an orgasm, like you, she manhandles you and grabs your biceps. She tows you up to her naked body before she pins you down to the bed. She plants herself like a tree between your legs, the large silicone dick nudging your inner thighs. You still can see her glistening core through the straps. 
“I need to watch you come apart again,” She explains as she holds the cock in her hand, “Wanna watch you cum over and over again.”
Her hair is messily over her shoulders, so when she leans down to stare down at the dick sliding between your folds, it falls in her face. She tucks it behind her ears, but it still drifts down her chest. You circle your hips, sighing at the feeling of the ridges of the dildo against your sensitivity. 
“Fuckin’ hair,” She fusses. You giggle a bit, watching her throw it back over her shoulders. You nudge her shoulder, using some force to pull her over your body. She leans down, her hair falling onto your face. 
“I’ll hold it for you, just make me feel good,” You murmur, using both hands to gather her hair. She gasps as you tug on her locks. You use some of the leverage you have to position her even closer to you. She reaches between your bodies and coats the cock in your slick. As soon as she teases your entrance with it, you pull her hair back. It sends her over the edge as she eases the dick inside you. It hurts a bit, so when she draws back you tell her to coat it in her saliva. She does what she’s told, spitting into her free hand a couple times and covering the appendage with it. 
Once she eases in again, the stretch feels better with the lubrication. Your thighs want to clench so bad, but the way she’s resting on you, you have no way to. She draws in and out of your pussy, grunting at the impact. 
It feels so good, but part of you wishes you just had her beautifully long fingers inside you. 
She moves your hands away from her hair and throws her head back, tossing her blond hair back. She props your legs up, plowing into you. You’re crying out, your ears ringing with the sound of your own heartbeat. 
“God, I need you to cum, baby,” She mumbles, kissing your knee as your body starts to vibrate. The cock is hitting you in all the right spots, but you need more. You reach down, using the pads of your fingers to stimulate your clit.
“Please don’t stop!”
It riles her up more, her pace quickening with every gasp. She pushes your fingers away, replacing them with her own. The pressure she applies sends your body into overdrive. Between her moans and the physicality, your orgasm hits you like a train. She fucks you through it, mumbling phrases like “that’s my good girl” and “yes baby, give it to me”. 
Once it’s over, it feels like your heart may beat out of your chest. She pulls the strap out and stands up beside your bed, shoving it off her hips. You watch her closely as she props the item up on your side table. She’s careful not to mess with any of you meticulously placed knick knacks. 
“You good?” She asks, her voice cracking a bit. 
She wanted to say more, but as she looks at you all fucked out on your bed, she feels a pang of guilt. She should not be indulging in this type of stuff, especially when you’re going against the cause. Abby had it made here, she can’t risk anything. 
“‘m all good, Abs. Do you wanna stay?”
She shakes her head negatively. 
“I think I’m gonna head back to my room. We gotta be up in a couple hours.”
You notice she’s being cold, which sends you into a spiral. You want to reassure her, but you know deep down she’s already made up her mind. 
You clear your throat, “Well, we can at least wake up together.”
“No, I don't think that’s the best idea,” She explains as she finds her clothes across your bedroom. She lays them on the bed beside you as she starts to dress herself. She has this look of concern on her face. It makes you physically ill, knowing it’s the face of regret. 
“Well, I guess we are back to square one.”
She throws her shirt over her head before she’s gathering up her things and practically running to the door. You want to pick up the dildo and sling it at her head. You can’t believe this. 
She reaches for the door before turning around to face you, “Guess so.”
PART 2 is HERE
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perlelune · 3 days
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All Too Well | Rafe Cameron
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A tragedy in your family forces you to return to the one place you fled from years ago. Your hometown of Outer Banks.
Warnings: NON-CON, Mom Reader, Pogue! Reader, Mentions of Abuse, Blackmail, Threats, Child Abduction, Gun Use
This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.
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You sigh as you pass the familiar town sign. Welcome to the Outer Banks. Paradise on earth.
Right, paradise on earth. Until it became hell for you.
You let your gaze wander across the coastline, soaking in the crashing waves and glittering sand. The fresh sea breeze whisks inside the car, its soft, familiar flutter over your face bringing bittersweet memories alongside it. As you take in your surroundings, you’re struck with the realization of how little has changed over the years. Same houses. Same trees. And perhaps, you ponder wistfully, even the same people…
A mix of confusing emotion flows through you at that prospect.
Most of your life was spent here, precious memories having taken place on that very beach you just passed. Lazy days hanging out with your friends, doing whatever it is you wished. Hanging out, goofing off, getting high and enjoying endless summers.
Before mesmerizing blue eyes found yours at a beach party. It’s when your downward spiral began. How sweetly things started. How sourly they turned.
You can still feel the ghost sensation of his fingers around your neck, pressing until you could hardly breathe. Yet another fit of anger. Brushed off like so many until you couldn’t bear it anymore.
Eventually you grew tired of the whirlwind of emotions, of how he always had an excuse, some sort of twisted justification for his horrible actions. How somehow nothing was ever his fault. But yours. Always yours.
And once you found out that you had more than your own well-being to worry about…the decision was made for you. Of course, you needed to run like hell and never look back. It wasn’t just about you anymore. You had someone else to protect, from his mood swings and temper, but most importantly…from becoming just like him.
A heavy breath drops from your mouth as you clutch the steering wheel. The unpleasant flashes are chased away with a sharp shake of your head. You steady your rising pulse. You promised yourself not to not sink into that hole again. That hopeless, desolate place where you’re trapped in the dark and no one can hear you screaming. You’re stronger now. He can’t hurt you anymore.
This was four years ago. All that stuff is in the past. Buried and forgotten. Thankfully.
Your son’s hitch-pitched voice tugs your focus from the backseat.
“Can we go to the beach, mom?” he says, bouncing in excitement. “Please, please, please.”
You swipe a glimpse of him in the rearview mirror. Here he is. Your entire life, on the cusp of throwing a tantrum in the backseat of your car. Your three year-old son, Parker.
Your focus shifts back to the road.
“We have to go visit some friends first, sweetie.”
“Okay…” he pouts dejectedly.
“Once we’re settled in, we can go.”
He beams at that. A smile creeps upon your lips. While raising Parker on your own has been a challenge, you wouldn't change a thing. Seeing his bright, gummy smile everyday makes it all worth it.
You make a few more turns before finally reaching your destination. You soak in the striking sight of the house as you climb out of your car. It’s a lot bigger and nicer than the ones surrounding it, an uncanny sight in the Cut. It still surprises you that JJ didn’t move to Figure Eight. With his flourishing boat renting business, he can basically do anything he wants now. And you know he’d likely get a kick out of pissing off the 
Kooks by moving to their side of the island. So you’re a bit shocked that he chose to keep roots there. 
You suppose, in the end, he will always be a Pogue at heart. 
You pick up your son from the back seat. A yawn escapes from his mouth before he wraps his arms around your neck and begins to doze off. You can’t blame him. This was his longest trip since he was born. He clings to you as you make your way to the front door. 
The door opens, a familiar blond welcoming you with a bright smile.
“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” he drawls. 
“Are you sure it’s okay if we stay? We can go to a motel.”
JJ huffs his disapproval before ushering you inside. 
“Nonsense. Why stay in a motel when we have plenty of room here?”
Your eyes dart about the place. It’s clean and though the decor screams ‘bachelor’, homey vibes ooze from the space. Memorabilia from JJ’s travels are littered across the shelves as well as pictures of him and the Pogues beneath his surfing board. Melancholy hits you again. You’ve missed so much.
You shoot him a teasing grin.
“Plenty of room, huh? Sounds like someone’s gone full Kook.”
JJ rolls his eyes at your playful taunt. “Do you have any bags?” he asks.
“In the trunk,” you reply, handing him your keys. “I didn’t pack much since we won’t be staying long.”
He takes your keys, concern flashing in his blue eyes. “Which I still don’t get. I could kick his ass for you, so you don’t have to leave again.”
“It’s fine, JJ. Parker and I have a great life in Florida. I just got promoted. I’m saving up so we can move to a bigger place in a few months. Things are good. Really good.”
“I still think you should be here with us.” You supply no answer as he strolls to your car to get your things. You know JJ would tussle with him if you let him, has tried to in the past. He’s your best friend and has always been overly protective of you. It’s exactly why you need to leave once everything is handled. You refuse to let him get tangled up in your mess. It was never his to fix. 
You pad further inside JJ’s home. Astonishment flutters through you as you find another familiar face by the kitchen counter. 
Her long blonde mane swings at her back as she rushes to you. 
“Is that my nephew?” she whispers in an attempt not to wake up your toddler.
“Sarah,” you greet cheerfully.
She bends to get a better look at him. Her expression lights up.
“He’s gotten so big since the last time.”
The sound of Sarah’s voice tears Parker from his slumber.
He rubs his eyes, a broad grin appearing on his little face when he recognizes her.
“Auntie Sarah…”
“Hey buddy,” she chimes.
He jumps into her arms and the two of them giggle as she hugs him.
“I wish I could visit more often,” she says.
You nod in agreement. Sarah used to visit the two of you in Florida on a semi-regular basis, but she had to stop once a certain somebody became a bit too curious about the impromptu trips she was taking several times a year.
“Me too, but we both know it’s not possible.”
The two of you share a knowing look.
JJ reappears with your two bags in his hands.
“Shall I show you and your offspring to your chambers, m’lady?” he says, mimicking a horrible British accent. 
You shake your head at his antics. Though you’d never admit it aloud, you kind of missed them. A lot.
“You’re an idiot, you know that?” 
He flashes you a broad grin.
“Hm, I think the word you’re looking for is wickedly handsome.”
“That is more than one word,” you deadpan.
He shrugs. “Just handsome then.”
You sigh as you follow him upstairs. Pleasant surprise courses through you at what you witness when he opens the door to the guest room. 
The interior is warm and welcoming. The blankets have rockets, moons and stars on them. There’s even a nightlight and a few toys lying in a corner. It’s a lot more than you expected and a swell of emotions mounts inside you at the sight. 
“You just had to go overboard, huh?”
His shoulders heave and fall in nonchalance.
“Only the best for my best girl.”
You plop down on the bed, drinking in the animal paintings on the walls. 
“Did you paint that yourself?”
He sits next to you, leaning back in a relaxed stance.
“I did. Mostly. Though Sarah, Kie and the others insisted on helping.”
“You know we’re not staying.”
He studies you, a small smile tugging his lips.
“A guy can hope.” JJ licks his lips, fingers dragging over the colorful blanket. “I just want you to know you have a home here if you ever decide to come back.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
Blue eyes lock with yours, silence stretching between the two of you before he speaks again. 
“I really missed you.”
“Me too,” you say. “Are you and Kie still…?”
“We broke it off a few years ago.”
Your eyes round. They seemed so into each other at the time. Though you surmise, people can change over the years. You aren’t teenagers anymore after all.
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m not. We’re better off as friends,” he states casually. He holds your gaze and smiles. “Some things just aren’t meant to be.”
“Alright Master Yoda, when did you get so wise?” you quip.
He joins his hands, his expression solemn.
“A stupid kid, I am not anymore.” You laugh and his smile widens. “Believe it or not.” He pauses, appearing lost in thought. He then offers, “You should come to the Bonfire celebration tonight.”
“I don’t know…”
Your brows knit. You returned out of necessity. Hanging out isn’t exactly at the top of your list of priorities. 
JJ gives your shoulder a light shove.
“Come on. It’s at the Boneyard, just like old times.” His expression turns serious. “Everyone’s really missed you. It’s not the same without you around.”
He gets to his feet. Your stomach knots when he retrieves an urn from under the night table and hands it to you.
Your chest tightens.
“Are those her…”
“Yeah. Her last wish was to be at sea. Maybe you could do it tonight?”
Your fingers press firmly around the curved edges of the urn, tears welling up in your eyes.
“I should have been there, JJ,” you mumble.
“It’s not your fault.”
“But if I-”
“No, you can’t blame yourself for every little thing. I won’t let you.” Noting your trembling fingers, he takes the urn from you, placing it over the night table. He cradles your face and wipes the tears spilling down your face. “She knows how much you loved her. That's all that matters.” He wraps his arms around you and you sink into his embrace, soaking his familiar sea-salt smell. It’s somehow barely changed since you last saw him. “It was an accident. No one could have done anything. Especially not you.”
You sniffle, swallowing a fresh surge of tears. You may not have been close to your sister, but you still resent that you couldn’t be together before she passed. She barely got to know her own nephew. 
She deserved a lot more from you. A lot more that you weren’t able to give, which you hate yourself for.
You just couldn’t risk it. Not when one look at him would suffice for most people to guess who Parker’s father is. Starting with those piercing blue eyes. The same as his father’s. 
Accidents are accidents. But you can’t help but wonder if being with her would have made a difference. No one even really knows what happened. Just that she was in her house - you parents’ house - and fell. Then she stopped breathing. By the time she was rushed to the hospital it was too late.
Your sister was gone. Ally is gone.
A harsh truth your mind is still wrangling with.
“I don’t know if I can come. Parker’s still so small-”
“I’ll watch him.”
Your head snaps up. You find Sarah in the doorway, your son in her arms. As soon as he enters the room, the little boy gets excited. He starts running around and grabs a toy from the pile to play with.
“Are you sure?” you ask.
“Are you kidding?” Sarah exclaims. Her gaze softens as she looks at your son. “I missed the little guy so much. We’ll have a ton of fun.”
You peer at Parker. He’s found a dinosaur and a soldier and decided to have the two apparently fight in space. You have to admit, JJ’s house is much more kid-friendly than you expected. Perhaps, you can probably release him into his aunt’s care for a few hours. You have no desire to turn into one of those helicopter moms who need their children under perpetual supervision. Parker too, may benefit from some time with Sarah. He never gets to see her after all.
“Well, I guess if you don’t mind,” you say. 
Sarah perks up at your response. 
“See? Everything’s sorted out,” JJ says brightly.
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The moment they see you, Kie, John B and Pope hurtle a ceaseless string of questions your way. Your life in Florida. Your job. Your dating life. The weather. How the beaches are there. No inquiry’s off-limits, too strange or personal. They constantly speak over each other, their excitement at seeing you again clear as day. You try to answer everything in between your laughs. JJ was right. It’s good that you came. 
You needed to see them. It doesn’t hit you until you listen to Kie’s bubbly, passionate rant about the foundation she created to clean up the ocean floors. You missed the Pogues. Deeply. You were so absorbed in being a mom that you never took the time to ponder that loss. 
“Guys, you have to give her time to actually answer,” Sarah jests. 
“It’s okay,” you say, waving your hand in nonchalance. Your handle on the urn between your arms tightens. “There’s something I need to do anyway.”
Quiet falls over the group, their lively chatter instantly dying. You see it in the Pogues’ eyes. All your friends are acutely aware how it guts you to do this. 
Kie takes a step forward. She hasn’t changed a bit. Brown curls cascade at her back. Her pretty face is scrunched in concern. 
“Do you want me to come with you?”
You shake your head. This isn’t something the Pogues can help you with. You glance at JJ who stands a few feet behind her. His expression mirrors hers. You’ve used him as a crutch enough times. Too many times. 
You give a tremulous smile.
“No I…I need to do it alone.”
She nods as you stroll towards the rolling waves. Your slow steps trail prints into the sand as you soak in the flaming sun spilling over the horizon. Diamonds sparkle above the mesmerizing water, lights dancing over the infinite stretch of blue. 
You open the urn. Water licks your toes as you move forward. 
As you watch her ashes swirl to the bottom of the ocean, a strange emptiness fills your chest. None of it feels right. She should be here laughing. Or doing something stupid with the Pogues. Doing stupid shit was her specialty. 
Her sunny smile flickers in your mind. 
You don’t notice the tears until their salty taste slips past your lips. You quickly wipe them as soon as you do. You can’t let Parker see you cry. He would ask why, in that sweet little voice of his. “Why are you crying, mommy?”
And you’d be stumped, incapable of producing a suitable answer for him. 
“Princess?”
You freeze. The deep voice feels snatched right out of your worst nightmares. You turn slowly, denial still keeping you mute. 
Your heart drops. 
It really is him, you realize, dumbfounded. He looks the same as the last time you saw him, dizzyingly tall and wickedly handsome in khaki shorts and a seersucker buttondown. A very Kook getup. Not that you’d expect anything less from Rafe Cameron. 
He chuckles at your reaction.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” His smile widens. You feel sick. He points at his chest. “Shit, am I…the ghost?”
Ignoring the rising tide of panic overflowing your insides, you brush past him. 
He follows you, his long legs easily keeping up with your hasty strides. 
“I was gonna offer my condolences but…Really? You don’t even say ‘hi’ anymore?”
“Hi, Rafe.”
Your stomps are halted when he stands in your path.
He bends so the two of you are at eye level. Your breath catches beneath his stare. You somehow forgot. How blue his eyes are. And something else strikes you as you look at him. 
Those are your son’s eyes. 
“There. Did you lose your manners in…Where do you live now anyways?” He snorts but there isn’t a hint of mirth in his tone. “It’s not like I’d know since you changed your number on me.”
Your stomach flips. “It’s good to see you, Rafe. But I was just leaving.”
When you try to get past him again, he grabs your arm to keep you from leaving. 
“Wait, wait, wait. Why the cold shoulder? After all these years…this is what I get from you, princess?”
A lump forms in your throat. 
“Let go of me, Rafe,” you say. 
You try to shake out of his grasp but his grip on you tightens. 
He gets in your face, his gaze narrowing. 
“I haven’t seen you in four years. And this is how you treat me? W-What did I do to deserve that?” You turn your head, tears gathering in your eyes. His fingers latch around your jaw, digging painfully into your cheeks. “Look at me when I’m talking to you.”
Someone pulls you back from Rafe, sliding between the two of you. 
You gasp as you stumble back. 
“Leave her alone, Rafe,” JJ grits out, standing in front of you protectively. 
A derisive snicker bursts through Rafe’s lips. He glares up and down at your friend, disdain burning in his eyes.
“Still hanging out with those Pogues, I see.” He laughs as JJ crowds his space, his jaw clenching. “You tryin’ to get into something, Maybank?”
“Maybe I am,” JJ replies.
One could cut a knife through the thick layer of tension coating the air between the two men.
You wedge yourself between them. None of them looks away from the other, a nonverbal duel still occurring right before your eyes. 
You heave out a long sigh.
“Guys. We aren’t kids anymore. That’s enough,” you say. You unleash an annoyed sigh when they don’t move and grab JJ’s hand. “JJ, let’s go.”
“Still her little puppy dog, I see,” Rafe sneers. “Too bad she never gave you any treats like you wanted, huh Maybank?”
He blows JJ a mocking kiss, wiggling his fingers and openly taunting him. 
Sensing his urge to pounce on Rafe when he tenses near you, you tug JJ further away. 
“He’s not worth it,” you whisper.
“Good night, princess. I guess I’ll see you around,” Rafe yells from afar. 
“No, you won’t,” you respond, shooting daggers at him with your eyes. “Goodbye, Rafe.”
The events of the evening leave you rattled. For the entire night, you toss and turn in bed, the sound of Rafe’s voice, even deeper after all these years, invading your every thought. You thought you were safe. Freed. But frankly, one look from him had you feeling weak. Defenseless. It yanked you right back to four years ago. Back when you still hung to his every word and thought he held the moon. When you thought that, perhaps, Rafe Cameron was just misunderstood. And you, the only one capable of solving the riddle he offered. You truly were a naive teenager then. 
Guys like Rafe never change. It took you entirely too long to accept that fact. You'll never make such a mistake ever again.
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In the morning, JJ leaves to run some errands, leaving you alone with Parker. You plant a kiss atop his head and stroke his blond curls. His tiny fists are curled against the pillow, his lids twitching while he lightly snores. It soothes you, the sight of him soundly sleeping. He’s innocent and happy. You would do anything to keep him that way for as long as possible.
You climb out of bed and make your way downstairs. You get started on breakfast for your son, mashing ripe bananas and oats as you follow along a tutorial online. It’s where you learnt everything when it came to caring for Parker. The internet has been a life-saver in more ways than one. 
You pause your whisking when the doorbell chimes. 
Your brows knit. You’re not expecting anyone. Neither is JJ. A delivery, perhaps? But he didn’t say there would be one today.
You flinch as the sound erupts again. 
Your heart starts to race. Something isn’t right. You can feel it. 
At first, you elect to ignore whoever’s on the other side. You’re alone with your son. You won’t let some stranger who can’t catch a hint inside the house.
But it doesn’t matter. 
The bell rings again. You’re paralyzed. You take tremulous steps to the entrance. Whoever it is, you plan on telling them to kick rocks. You suck in a wide lungful and nudge the door open by a tiny crack. Your eyes fly open in shock at who’s on the doorstep.
Immediately, you try to slam the door closed. He doesn’t let you, placing his foot against the doorjamb as his large hand curls around the wooden edge of the door to keep it open. Fear seizes your throat as he looms over you.
“Rafe? What are you doing here?” you say, trying your best to quell the tremor in your voice. 
He licks his lips and drinks you in.
“Well, we didn't get to finish our talk last night-”
Of course, this is the moment your son chooses to groggily drag his feet down the stairs. 
“Mommy, I’m hungry…” he complains while rubbing his face. 
Your heart drops to your feet. 
Rafe’s eyes grow wide. For a minute, he’s too stunned to utter a word, a million thoughts seeming to go through his mind. You use his surprise to nudge him outside. He doesn’t resist, shock still written on his handsome face. 
You close the door and slump against the wood. 
“Who’s that?” Rafe blurts out once he finds his ability to speak again. He’s pointing at the door as his breaths grow heavier. It doesn’t matter that your son is now out of view. Some doors can never be shut again once they’ve been opened. This is one of them.
Your shoulders heave and fall in feigned nonchalance.
“Nobody.”
His jaw clenches. “Don’t fuck with me, okay?”
You nod and show him the front yard.
“Let’s talk over there.”
He won’t let it go. Just like he never did with anything when you were together. You watch him pace across the yard as he grips his head. It almost seems like you’re not here, a spiral of emotions clearly sucking him in. You stand back warily. You remember those spirals, how destructive they could turn. 
“Fuck, Fuck…” he mumbles under his breath. He takes a deep breath and whirls to you. “You know what I’m gonna ask.”
You cross your arms, pulling the cardigan closer to your shivering frame.
“Rafe. I need you to calm down…”
He slaps your hand away when you try to touch his arm. 
“No you…Y-You don’t get to tell me to calm down, okay? Because it’s fucked. Fucked.” You jump as he gets louder, uncaring about anyone hearing him.  “How old is he? Three? Four? Is he my-”
“His father’s in Florida,” you blurt out. As soon as the words roll off your tongue, you curse inwards, your mistake dawning on you. Why did you say Florida instead of some other random state like Missouri or Massachusetts? You’re gonna have to move. Again.
Rafe’s jaw flexes before a chuckle of disbelief leaves him. 
“Really? You expect me to believe this load of crap? That kid in there looks just like me.”
“It was a one-night stand.”
He squints at you.
“I know you. You don’t do one-night stands. You’re not that kind of girl.”
“Well maybe you don’t know me as well as you think. Maybe I’ve changed.”
That mere suggestion seems to have his blood boiling. 
“I want a paternity test.”
Your stomach plummets.
“No.”
He gives a slow nod, a smirk blooming on his lips.
“Then I’ll court-order it, sue you for custody and make sure you never see our son again.” 
A chill creeps up your spine. Your voice quakes with fear.
“You wouldn’t.”
His face breaks out into a broad grin. 
“Try me, princess.”
You look at him. Really look at him. A determination is etched in his steely glare. One you haven’t seen in years. Not since he relentlessly pursued you until you yielded to his advances. It flattered you then. It terrifies you now.
“I’ll come back tomorrow,” he announces. “And don’t try to run away from me again, you understand? You won’t like what happens if you do.”
Your throat goes dry. When you don’t answer, Rafe’s hand shoots up and latches around your throat.
You whimper as he seethes, “Do you understand?”
“I-I understand, Rafe,” you stutter, your body shaking in his grasp.
He pats your cheek, seemingly satisfied. 
“Good. See you tomorrow, princess.”
Even as he releases you, your chest is tight with dread.
He starts walking to his Jeep. You remain glued to your spot, feeling as if a hole just opened in the ground and you were being swallowed in its depths. 
Rafe’s gaze rakes across your shuddering frame as he starts his car.
He bends over the window and smirks.
 “Oh by the way, you still look good…Didn’t get to say that last night,” he tosses flirtatiously before driving away. 
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When night comes, JJ scowls at you while you’re frantically packing. Since he came back, he has tried to convince you to stay. 
But your mind is made up. You refuse to wait for him to have the confirmation he needs to force his way into your life again. You know exactly what the test will say. There’s been no guy other than Rafe. No one before or after.
He left you so bruised, so riddled with wounds that never closed, that you never opened your heart to anyone else again. And definitely not your legs. 
“You should have called me when it happened,” JJ says.
“Call you for what? So the two of you can swing on each other?”
You glance at your son, napping across the large bed. He has no idea what’s going on. No idea his father was here just a few hours ago. A silver lining amidst the dusky clouds threatening to rain hell upon your life. A life you cherish. A life you worked so hard to build. 
A life you just lost. Coming back here was a mistake. You knew it from the beginning. Had that sinking feeling all along. But you were so chock full of guilt about your sister that you didn’t have it in you not to fulfill her last wish. She deserved that at least.
…And now, you’re fucked.
“This doesn’t change anything. We can’t stay.”
“But…”
You whip your head up and whisper to not wake Parker.
“It’s his kid. You know how much sway he has now. How much he could fuck up our lives. Not just mine. But everyone else’s…including you, JJ.”
Annoyance flares in his eyes. You can tell he doesn’t like to be reminded of that. 
“But you don’t have to do this alone. I can-”
You clutch his arm and shake your head.
“No, I already involved you enough. If we go now, he won’t be able to find us, ever again. I’ll make sure of it.”
His frown accentuates. Unsaid words crowd the air. You feel their weight in his silence. Still, none leave his mouth. He heaves out a deep resigned breath instead.
“Just text me when you’ve crossed state lines, okay?”
“Of course. Tell Sarah and the Pogues I’m sorry. I’ll call her once Parker and I are safe.”
He wraps his arms around you. You sink into the embrace, committing that comforting warmth to memory. 
“I can’t believe you’re already leaving,” he says. 
You swallow the onset of tears tickling the back of your eyes. 
“Yeah…Me too.”
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When you’re slinking down the road in your hatchback as stars twinkle above you, you genuinely believe you are out of trouble. You didn’t even wake Parker, just lifted him from bed and gingerly placed him in the backseat. Heavy sleeper as he is, your son did not stir. You believe the two of you are safe, sound and on your way back to Florida. That for once, you bested him. All's well that ends well, as they say.
But perhaps you escaped the frying pan to jump right into a blazing inferno. 
It is what occurs to you as you’re hailed by a cop car on your way out of town. The moment you get a glimpse of the sirens, the blood drains from your head. You can never catch a break, it seems. At first, you ponder if you should ignore it, keep on driving. You almost do it. But as the vehicle cuts right across your path, you’re left with no other option. Your nerves flare at the sight of the blue and red lights glaring in the pitch blackness, illuminating the large trees flanking the road.
As Officer Shoupe steps outside the car, your gut wrenches. He chased you and your friends across the island so many times when you were a teenager. You weren’t the most fond of him back then. Now you’re downright on the verge of soiling your car seat as he takes long, threatening strides towards your car.
He knocks on your window. You sigh and lower the glass. You place a hand in front of your face as he blinds you with his flashlight.
“Ma’am. Get out of the car,” he orders.
“I don’t understand. I wasn’t speeding-”
His hand ghosts over the holster of his gun. Your pulse quickens. The clear threat hangs in the night air, stifling your breath.
“I won’t say it again. Get out.”
You take shaky steps outside of the car, raising your hands the entire time. Your son’s in the backseat. You find yourself praying, hoping that he doesn’t wake up and see you like this.
Unspilled tears collect in your eyes.
As he speaks into his walkie-talkie, your heart stops. 
“I’ve got her, sir. You were right. She was trying to leave.”
It doesn’t even surprise you when you see a familiar Jeep arrive on the scene some time later. Of course it was all him. Of course he anticipated you running away, again.
A surge of queasiness mounts within you as his towering frame leaps out of the drivers’ seat and he stomps in your direction. You feel the bear trap closing in on you, the claws sinking deep. Inescapable.
He opens the door where your son is having an oblivious nap and barks at you, “Get Parker and come with me.”
When you refuse to move, he seizes the back of your neck and slams your face against your car window. You squeak as the coolness of the glass seeps into your cheek.
“I said…Get him,” he hisses, pressing something cold against the base of your spine. You go still. You never had one pointed at you before but you’re fairly sure you know what object is kissing your back right now.
As the muffled metallic click of the weapon ripples through the night, a stray tear skips down your cheek.
A gun. Rafe has a fucking gun. Disbelief floods your chest.
Not even your worst nightmares could you have conjured something this sick and evil.
His lips drag along your earshell as you sob. “Get our son,” he articulates. “I won’t repeat myself, princess.” As soon as he allows you some space, you rush to pick up your son from the backseat. He’s thankfully still asleep. You adjust him in your arms as you gulp down a sob, reluctantly making your way to Rafe’s Jeep. He instructs you to put him in the backseat. He then nudges the gun against your hip, quietly heeding you to climb into the passenger seat of his car. 
Your heart shrivels inside your chest as he hops into the car too and slams the door shut.
“All these years and you still haven’t learnt to listen,” he scoffs, irritation bleeding through his tone. His wrath is palpable. Sizzling, red, hot fury you feel all the way to your bones.
He hates you. Who knows what he’ll do if you provoke him any further?
Terror makes your voice slip out hoarse, hardly more than a whisper.
“W-Where are you taking us Rafe?”
The gun - the goddamn gun - is still in his hand as he pinches the bridge of his nose and slaps the steering wheel. 
“I should kill you for this, you know?” he hisses, turning the key in the ignition with his other hand. The engine revs as he turns the car around. He dives onto the road. Any fickle hope you harbored dwindles into the night. 
You lick your dry lips.
“Rafe,” you try again.
His eyes flare dangerously, the gun twitching in his hand.
“Don’t interrupt me when I’m speaking.” A mirthless chuckle bursts through his lips. “S-So what now? You take my son from me, for four fucking years…and I’m the bad guy? I-It’s somehow my fault?”
You swallow past the thick lump in your throat. Tears flow down your face as shaky words bounce off your tongue. “You scared me, Rafe…sometimes.” You glance at the gun and sniffle. “You’re scaring me now. Please just…p-put away the gun.”
He slams his hand into the steering wheel as you gasp.
“Don’t fucking try telling me what to do,” he warns. He draws a long inhale, squeezing his eyes shut. When he opens them again, there’s a peculiar determination burning in his gaze. “Here’s what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna drop off our son.” The corners of his lips curl upward. “Then Mommy and Daddy are gonna go home and have a little grown-up talk.”
A chill shoots through you.
“Rafe, please. Don’t do this. I’m sorry. O-Okay, I admit it. I lied. But please, don’t-”
“Shut up!” he roars, causing you to fall quiet. “You’ve lied to me enough. I don’t want to hear another word coming out of your lying whore mouth until we get home.”
The commotion nudges your son awake.
“Mommy…”
Your nerves thrum in panic. You bend over the backseat and cradle his face, slotting a false smile onto your lips. “Go back to sleep, sweetie,” you urge. 
“Yes, Parker, go back to sleep,” Rafe repeats, his tone veering on sarcastic. 
“Who’s that, mommy?” your toddler inquires, tilting his head.
“Just go back to sleep,” you say, singing a tremulous lullaby to lull him back into slumber. Relief sits inside your chest when his eyes close.
He makes a first stop at his friends’ house. Your heart is ripped outside your chest as you watch Rafe’s friend - Topper or something you believe his name is - take your son away. They exchange words in the dark as you gawk in horror. You only have vague memories of Topper and now he has your son. A scream scalds the back of your throat, one you’re too terrified to let loose.
When Rafe returns inside the car, he is eerily quiet. You nearly find yourself wishing he’d talk, even if it’s to yell at you again. The silence is so unlike him, so profoundly unnerving.
But not another word escapes the confines of his tight lips as he drives.
Tannyhill comes into view and your heart sinks.
The persistent threat of the gun is the only reason you follow him inside. Whenever you drag your feet, he shoves the barrel into your back even more, reminding you what you’re risking if you don’t do as he says. You’re a sobbing, weeping mess by the time you’re in the Camerons’ lobby.
He places the gun on a nearby table and removes his belt.
“So, w-what was the plan exactly? Did you plan on never telling me?” You tense as he loops the belt around his knuckles, prowling forward. 
The golden ring on his finger glints in the low light of the lobby. 
“Did you plan on having that Pogue raise my son?”
“I…”
A sinister smile spreads over his face.
“You know what? I think we’ve been apart too long. I think I gotta remind you who the fuck I am, princess.” Your blood curdles at his words. You dart across the lobby but Rafe catches you, hauling you off the ground before slamming your body across the marble tiles without ceremony. Pain explodes through your limbs. He drags your limp frame to the railings. Your insides lurch as you feel leather bite into your flesh when he ties the belt around your wrists. He attaches the belt to the railings, restricting your arms’ range of motion.
Helplessness skyrockets inside you. A fresh wave of tears rolls down your cheeks.
“Rafe, please…”
Rafe pulls his zipper down. Impatience grunts leave him as he wriggles out of his pants and boxers, freeing his already rock-hard cock. He yanks your shorts and panties down until the bottom of your body is completely bare to him. 
His pupils swell at the sight of your bare cunt, leaving only a thin ring of blue in his dark gaze. 
He lines himself with your entrance, pressing his wet tip against your dry lips. He breaches past the tight ring of muscles as you stiffen. An immediate burst of pain scatters through you. Tears dot your lashes as heavy breaths rush from your chest. 
It’s clear it’s taking tremendous effort for Rafe to force himself inside your unprepared core. Sweat collects on his brow as he pins you with his broad frame. 
When he pushes more of himself inside you, your eyes roll back. You don’t think the agony could worsen but somehow it does. 
Your bound hands clench into fists, your nails sinking into your palms. 
“Rafe, please, it hurts,” you whimper. His fingers cinch around your throat in response. Your core burns, your lips parting in a soundless scream as Rafe bottoms out inside you. Your vision blurs with tears. Pure hatred oozes off his husky tone as he starts moving inside you. “You don’t get to complain. I don’t want to hear another fucking word from your mouth, do you hear me?” He drags his cock out and slams it inside your aching walls again. “This is what you deserve so you’re gonna fucking take it. Take my cock until I’m done with you.”
You’re in hell as Rafe grunts like an animal in rut above you, uncaring of the strangled sobs leaving your throat. 
The expression on his face is downright terrifying, empty of anything but burning rage. In every single thrust, you feel the intensity of his loathing for you. How much he craves to punish you for everything. 
To your utter disgust, your cunt grows slick around him, easing his crude assault. 
As he notes your arousal coating his length, he lets out a bone-chilling laugh. “So wet already, huh?” Hand still wrapped around your throat, he bends to whisper into your ear. “I always knew you were a slut.” Your breath hitches as he buries himself even deeper, touching a sensitive spot that sends a fresh wave of pain through you. “That’s why I had to keep you in line.” He drops a soft kiss on your cheek as you tremble beneath him. “Sluts like you need a firm hand.”
You’re nothing but a ragdoll under Rafe as he uses you as a vessel for his pent-up anger and frustration. Every time you graze your peak, your body jolting uncontrollably, he pulls out of you out of the blue, pinching your swollen clit until you cry out and reminding you that you’re not allowed to come, that you don’t deserve even a sliver of release.
You’ve always known Rafe was capable of terrible things. But this…This is worse than anything he’s ever done to you. This is the point of no return.
Every time Rafe ruthlessly pounds into you, a bullet-like sensation rips through your flesh, tearing apart any semblance of normalcy, safety that you had. Hot tears skip down your cheeks. You will never feel safe or normal again. 
“Did you fuck that Pogue?” he snarls, his warmth breath flowing over your face. You’re so dazed and fucked out, on the cusp of passing out, you can barely keep your thoughts coherent, let alone speak. 
“Don’t tell me I already fucked you dumb, princess?” he sneers, annoyance and a sick dose of mirth mingling in his hoarse timbre.
When you fail to provide an answer, he bangs your head against the railings. Pins and needles drill into your skull. He wrenches your head back, pulling on a fistful of your hair until your scalp stings.
“When I ask you a fucking question, you answer,” he seethes. His voice lowers as his eyes dive into yours. “Did you fuck that Pogue?”
“N-No, Rafe,” you wheeze out, your voice weak and defeated.
The marbled floor chafes your back as he steadily ruts into you again, grabbing under your thighs to fuck you even deeper as you weep in silence beneath him. 
“Good. You’re mine and no one else’s. Do you understand? That fucking pussy was always mine…and still is.” He unleashes a drawn-out purr, lips parting as you clench around him. “Fuck you’re tight. How the hell are you so tight?” he rasps, his Adam’s apple bobbing. He lets go of your neck to focus on your hips, corralling them firmly in his large hands so he can fuck you with abandon. “God, I missed this,” he moans. His gaze narrows. “Don’t think you’re off the hook just cause you’ve got a tight pussy.” 
His thrusts grow sloppier over time. Rafe chases his high while you pant helplessly beneath him. When his warmth spills inside you, a shuddered exhale leaves you. He remains nestled between your bruised walls, his heavy body covering yours as his spent leaks between your ass cheeks, pooling beneath you. He plants a slow, soft kiss on your lips, a disturbing contrast to what he just did to you. 
He cups your cheek and strokes the side of your head. 
“You took four years from me. And I intend to make up for lost time.” A devilish grin splits across his face. Dread fills you as he adds, “Maybe I’ll even put another one in you, make sure not to miss anything this time.”
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“Mommy, mommy! Look at me,” Parker shouts from astride the majestic pure breed pony his father appointed for his fourth birthday. 
He waves at you and you return the gesture with a hollow smile. 
“I’m watching you, sweetie,” you reply from your lounge chair by the pool. 
Above the Cameron mansion, the sun shines bright, the sky a dizzying shade of blue. There’s not a cloud in sight, almost as if Rafe paid them off to steer clear on his son’s special day.
Parker trots around the yard with a big, ecstatic smile on his face, his dad cheering him on nearby. The little boy requested a pony ride for his birthday so, of course, Rafe Cameron made it happen.
There aren’t many things Cameron money cannot buy. A fact he loves taunting you with every chance he gets. 
Just like the ridiculous, over the top birthday party he put together, Rafe never misses an occasion to spoil his son rotten since they reunited. Almost as if to show you what you’ve been depriving him of all these years, rub his money in your face and make you feel like a terrible mom. 
You can’t deny that it works. Every time Rafe gives Parker something you never could have provided on your own, guilt chews at you. And it’s clear that he knows it, that smug grin always dancing on his face when he catches you looking dejected. 
One of the moms in the lounge chair near yours lets out a dreamy sigh as she devours Rafe with her eyes. 
“You’re a lucky bitch, you know that? Cute son. Hot husband. What I wouldn’t give to have your life.”
Your teeth clench as you bite down every hateful word searing your tongue. From across the yard, Rafe’s icy blue eyes find yours. He beams at you. A chill travels up your spine. You look away.
“Hm…yeah. I guess I am,” you answer, casting a sour glance at the diamond ring on your finger. The gigantic rock’s shimmer is blinding as it catches the sunlight. To everyone else on Figure Eight, the fancy silver ring is a display of Rafe Cameron’s boundless love and devotion for you. It makes women green with envy. It bruises men’s egos. But you see the exorbitant blood diamond for what it is…An expensive shackle binding you to your gilded cage. A reminder that you’re trapped and there is no safe haven away from him anymore.
Rafe hasn’t failed to find little ways to make you pay since that day. Treating you like an object to satisfy his needs behind closed doors while forcing you to maintain the act of the perfect family in public. Every day you awake dreading he found another way to torment you, some fresh hell to rain upon you.
He never runs out of ways to twist the knife he buried deep within you. Again and again.
When the evening reaches its end, all the guests having vacated the house, Rafe slips behind you as you’re cleaning dishes. 
His large hands sweep over your hips and you recoil.
“Rafe…I’m…Can’t we give it a rest, just for today? I’m still sore from the other night,” you plead, desperation making your voice quake.
Before he can answer, Parker interrupts, trailing down the stairs as he yawns. 
“Daddy?” he utters drowsily. 
The little boy is sporting a brand new pajama his father got him, as he didn’t allow you to keep any of the clothes you got him over the years, calling them low quality and cheap.
He approaches your son at the bottom of the stairs and holds his shoulders, giving him a bright grin. His expression turns fond and prideful as he considers his son. The way Rafe is with his son is a sharp contrast to the way he is with everyone else. The toddler’s become the center of his universe. It nearly makes you feel guilty for hiding him. Nearly. The bruises tattooed all over your skin are a wicked reminder of who Rafe truly is.
“Daddy’s coming soon to tuck you in, okay, P?” He kisses the top of his head. “So go back to your room.”
Parker nods as he lets out another yawn. “Okay.”
“That’s my boy,” he chimes, ruffling his honey blonde curls. 
Parker hops up the stairs. When Rafe turns to you, the smile on his face vanishes.
He rushes to you, his hand shooting up to latch around your throat. His deathly grip on your neck crushes your windpipe. You look at him with wide, terrified eyes, your mouth wobbling. An expression edging on murderous decorates his handsome face. 
He snickers. “You’re sore? You think I give a fuck? I’m putting Parker to bed, then I want you waiting for me upstairs in that red lingerie set I just bought you.” He leans over you, mumbling in a low, threatening tone. “I meant what I said. You owe me four years, princess.” He licks the errant tear sliding down your cheek. “And I plan on getting every single second back.”
573 notes · View notes
sinswithpleasure · 3 months
Text
To-Do List: Cream & Coffee
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—------—
Thank @friskyriskywhisky for this fic. Without him, I'd never write Minju.
Kinks: Public Sex, Magical Mischief, Blasphemy (really, this fic is that).
—------—
Sometimes, you forget Minju is an angel. 
She’s an angel, of course, but she’s also an angel, in every sense of the word. As in, “be not afraid” angel, as in miracles type, heaven-born angel. She embodies purity, compassion, kindness, and all that is holy and good with… well, almost every action she takes. 
Of course, you’d questioned it before: “Almost? Aren’t angels perfect?” It’s a valid question, and Minju corrects you every time you mention it: “Not perfect—blameless. Also, the rules have relaxed a bit! That’s why I’m always around you humans!”
If your next question is about what exactly Minju isn’t good and holy about, she’s had an answer for that too, with a wink and a smile: “Everyone says I’m mischievous, so it’ll only be a while before you’ll find out~.”
And find out you have—thoroughly, even. Minju seems to orbit around you a lot, and you’ve been roped into her schemes one too many times, much of which bring far too much risk for you. However, there’s no denying the satisfaction those schemes bring though—Minju makes sure you benefit too, whenever she decides to pull one of her tricks. Win-win scenarios are her bread and butter, she says, with a little swish of her hand and soft glow from her eyes, because “a few heavenly miracles don’t hurt anyone”. Far too many times she’s used it to get both you and her out of trouble, and you swear she’s way too mischievous and curious for anyone’s own good. It’s this mischief of hers that leads you to constantly remind yourself that she’s celestial, even if she doesn’t carry herself like one.
As you sip your coffee, Minju’s fork clatters against her plate, and she leans back with her signature smirk. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that she’s acting up again. 
“Yah, Minsik.” Minju calls for you. “I—”
“No, whatever it is, no.” You’re quick to shut her down. “I’m not about to do whatever it is you’ve thought up.”
“I didn’t even say what it was!” Minju’s pouting now, arms crossed over her letterman jacket, looking every bit like a petulant child. “You’re no fun.”
“That’s because every scheme you put me up to involves us doing something that could get us jailed.” 
“But I always get us out, don’t I?” Minju sulks, but it morphs into a grin quickly after. “And you can’t lie to me about how good I always make you feel when I make you try anything I think up.”
The memories instantly come flowing back—Minju on your bed, Minju on her knees, Minju on your lap, Minju bent over a desk, Minju against the wall. In some of these memories, Minju is naked, and in the others, she’s clothed in varying degrees. With these thoughts in your head, your body betrays your mind—your cock begins to harden in your pants, and you shift your legs to attempt to hide your bulge, even if Minju doesn’t have it in line of sight. 
“Yeah, I can’t, but what happened to ‘just having a normal afternoon drinking coffee and eating cakes’, Minju? We can’t even have that anymore?” 
“Oh, shut up, you.” Minju’s mischievous grin only grows bigger. “You can’t lie to me, you’re getting horny just remembering what we’ve done.”
“No I’m not.” You lean back in your chair, coffee in hand, taking a sip through the straw. Even if the effort is futile, you’d do it anyway just to spite Minju. 
Minju rises from her chair, and she slowly sashays around the table. You take advantage of this moment to ogle her thighs in her jeans—her body is nothing but perfect. She bends down right in front of you, her grin now stretching from ear to ear as she notes your reactions.
“Liar. You know I can tell when humans lie.” 
Minju leans in close to whisper her proposition.
“I think we should have some fun, Minsik.”
You sigh in resignation, then take the bait. “What kind of fun, Minju?”
“Well…” The angel stands back up and winks. “I’ve never had sex in a cafe before.” 
With a wave of her wrist, white light glows from her eyes, and the world around you ripples, as if it were water. You take a moment to enjoy the visual effects on the world around you. In that time, Minju closes the distance—she straddles you and plants herself on your lap, your bulge pressing right against her body. 
“Liar.” Minju repeats, smirking. “You said you weren’t horny.” She crosses her arms as she grabs the hem of her white tee, and you watch in barely restrained lust as the angel on your lap peels her shirt off her. As the cloth rises above her head, her petite, yet perfect breasts greet your eyes as she drops her shirt on the table behind her. Once again, no bra—the angel despises underwear, having “not needed any of it for the entire time I’ve been an angel”, something which you definitely have no complaints about. Minju rests her arms over your shoulder, and she grinds down on your bulge as she softly groans in pleasure. You join her in vocalizing your pleasure, all pretenses dropped, and you hold the angel steady by her hips as you grind into her too.
“It’s great to be an angel.” Minju sighs softly and bites her lip down on a particularly hard grind. “I can just cloak anytime and enjoy having sex, and no one would know.”
“You’re so corrupted, Minju.” You shift your hands up to caress the angel’s body, and she whines in pleasure when you cup one of her breasts in your palm, soft kneads and squeezes of her flesh drawing more sounds of pleasure from her. The angel only laughs, and she denies it with a wave of her wrist. “Heh, no I’m not. I just do what I enjoy doing, and no one’s going to stop me. Not the old man next to us with his newspaper, not the lady to your left working on her financial reports, not the baristas behind me, and most of all,” Minju’s pointer finger pushes against your chest as she taps you three times, “Definitely not you.” 
The angel is right—you’re not stopping her at all. Even as the old man to your right shakes his paper to get a better grip on it, even as the businesswoman to your left takes a glance in your direction, you’re not protesting at all when Minju’s hand trails down to undo your pants and zipper. You’re still fondling Minju’s bare breasts, and the angel leans in to push her lips against yours. No one can see you—the angel’s magic ensures that. She only lets the people see what she wants them to see, and right now, she wants them to see nothing at all. 
“Mm, so hard for me, that’s good.” Minju has her hand over your bulge now, having shifted down to your lap, and she only gives you a cursory few rubs before she withdraws her hand, to your disappointment. That doesn’t last long though—the angel begins to undo your pants, and she pulls your hard, twitching shaft out from underneath your zipper. She wraps her hand around it, soft slow strokes along your length drawing soft groans from your lips, groans that she silences with a hot kiss. Her tongue meets yours in the middle, and you pull her tighter against you, eager to feel her body against yours. However, Minju pulls herself back now, her weight leaving your lap as she gets off you. 
“Minju—”
“Shhh…” The angel giggles at the look of desperate need all over your face. “Give me just a second~.”
It happens in an instant—Minju is on your left one moment, and then in a blink of an eye, she’s on your right. The only difference between both of them is this: the Minju on your left seconds ago had her jeans still on, and the Minju on your right has them off. The angel is naked right next to you, her thighs glistening with her arousal as she straddles you again. It is at this point you notice that you’re naked too, your clothes and hers in a neatly folded pile on her chair. 
“This is cheating, Minju.”
“And who’s keeping score, Minsik?” Minju stands over you, her lips softly brushing against yours in a ghost of a kiss. “This little miracle doesn’t hurt anyone, does it? Especially if it gets us closer to having sex.” The angel lifts her legs one by one to fold them up over either of yours, almost as if to kneel right in your lap, her ankles supporting her weight with your help. Her knees are in the air next to both of your thighs. You instinctively grab Minju by the hips and ass while she balances herself, and she grins when she grabs your cock to brush it right against her labia, the moan torn from your lips exactly what she wants to hear.
“Mm, I love this part.” Minju exhales in stutters, the hot breath brushing against your lips. “The part where I drip all over the cock I’m about to fuck.”
And drip all over it she does. Minju coats your cock with a sheen of her slick, her hand helping to spread it all over with soft strokes once more. She takes a glance to see how aroused both you and her are, and the angel only giggles at your dazed expression of lust, pleasure, and anticipation when she looks back up. 
“Oh my God, Minju…”
“Hey, not in vain.” The angel jokingly chastises, as she always does. “I’ll smite you.”
“Do your worst,” is your challenge.
“That I will.” Minju lines you up with her hole, and in one stroke, she slams herself down on your cock. You moan out loud as Minju takes you to the hilt instantly. A loud whine of pleasure accompanies your moans as well, before Minju shakily breathes, “Just. Like. That.”
Just like that, she says. Just like that, you’re having sex with Minju, again, on her whim. The angel “smites” you over and over with her hips, engulfing your cock in her velvety, warm, tight cunt with every time she impales herself on your shaft. She takes to sex like a fish to water—you have no idea how, no idea why, and neither do you care or have ever cared. What you do care about right now is how she bounces herself on your cock, every stroke reaching deep into her as she fucks herself down on your length. Neither of you hide your moans as the world carries on around you—the cafe’s patrons are none the wiser about the sexual activities just inches away from them. This knowledge excites both Minju and you— as she fucks herself down on you hard, the almost-crazed joy displayed in her eyes from having such wanton public sex is mirrored in yours as well. Minju is a godsend—figuratively and literally—that has you able to do things you’ve only dreamed of in your wild fantasies, and you’re going to enjoy it for as long as you can.
“You’re hitting me right there every time, Minsik~!” Minju’s G-spot rubs against your shaft with every stroke of hers, and you thrust up in time with her as well. Your loud, vulgar exclamations of pleasure mix with Minju’s own, and the claps of her flesh against yours as well as the wet sounds of her pussy milking your cock only leave you both more and more aroused.
“Oh, fuck, Minju, fuck, you’re so tight, fuck!” The angel’s cunt massages your shaft, as if trying its best to coax your cum out of you as soon as possible. Her pussy is incredibly tight, and the pleasure you derive from it has you close to orgasm already. Minju is no better—she’s softly muttering about how close she is right next to your ear, her pussy drenching your cock and balls in her arousal, walls getting tighter and tighter as she gets close to her peak. 
“Fuck, Minsik, make me cum, make me cum together with you, make me cum all over your cock—”
From experience, you know Minju’s a talker, and her words only push you to thrust up into her harder, deeper, faster as you chase your high with her. The girl on your lap fucks herself on your cock in time with your thrusts, and both of you wrap your arms around each other however you can, pulling each other tight against the other as you hit your combined peaks simultaneously. 
“Oh, Minju, I—”
“Minsik~!”
Neither of you bother holding back your moans as you orgasm together. Minju’s hips buck against your faltering thrusts, her juices flowing down all over your lap as jets of squirt drench your lower half. Even as your hips stutter, you keep fucking into Minju as well as you can—burst after burst of thick white cum shoots deep into the angel’s tight cunt, and with every thrust, you push your load deeper and deeper into her, prolonging the pleasure both of you enjoy. The carnal pleasure seems to last forever, and both of you hold each other tightly as waves after waves of it wash over your bodies. Both of you make a mess where you sit—Minju’s juices mix with your overflowing load on the chair and the floor beneath you, and the air smells of sex. You hug the angel in your embrace as your highs subside, and she pushes herself off you urgently, though the smile on her face promises she means no offense.
“Don’t get mushy on me, fucker.”
“Shut up.” You help Minju off you, and your cock twitches when you fully exit her—thick drops of cum fall from her freshly fucked hole onto your shaft, and you can’t help but groan when you see it. 
“Already wanting a round two, Minsik? We can make it happen.” Minju giggles as she reaches a hand beneath to collect your flowing excess, then raises it to lick it all off. “You always taste so nice.”
“Oh my God, shut up, Minju…” You chuckle to yourself, the corrupted angel joining you as she grabs her clothes. With a wave of her wrist, both you and her are clothed, the mess beneath you cleaned up, and you’re both right back where you started—a normal afternoon drinking coffee and eating cakes.
“This was fun, Minsik.” Minju’s eyes flash with mischief once more. “I wonder where we can do it next…”
983 notes · View notes
atydblack · 1 month
Text
"plaything"
james potter x reader
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masterlist (requests open)
summary: you started dating james who was 3 years above you when you were in hogwarts, tensions rise when he re-introduces you to his friendship group that includes his ex girlfriend lily evans
no cws this is just pure angst/fluff
lmk what you guys think!
-
"You'll be fine, princess." James presses a soft kiss to your temple as you walk up to his friends flat.
Your cheeks blushed as he could clearly tell you were nervous. Of course you knew of his friendship group when you were in school, everybody did. But being 3 years younger meant that they definitely had no idea who you were.
James hadn't so much as looked at you twice at Hogwarts, but you always had a crush on him. When your paths crossed again a few months ago, it was him who had eyes for you.
"I know." You smile up at him, trying to shake your nerves. "Just promise they're not gonna hate me."
"Of course they won't hate you." He chuckles. "They have to love you because I love you."
"I love you too." You sigh, reaching up to press a kiss to his lips.
You make your way inside and into the kitchen, James quickly starts to introduce you.
"This is Sirius and Remus." He smirks, pointing at the two boys who are leaning against the kitchen counter. "And this is y/n"
Sirius immediately comes forward and gives you a tight hug, Remus soon copied his actions.
"Merlin, James how've you managed to bag that!" Sirius poked at James, causing James to swiftly shove his shoulder.
"It's nice to finally meet you, y/n." Remus smiles. "We've heard lots about you."
James guides you through to the lounge where Mary and Lily sat.
"You must be y/n!" Mary gushed, standing to her feet to give you a hug. "I'm Mary, and this is Lily." She gestured toward Lily who sat on the sofa with a smug grin.
"I'll leave you here to get to know the girls, baby."
"Baby?" Lily scoffed, making fun of James' choice of pet names.
"Oh shut up, Lil. Just because you're not getting any." James poked back, rolling his eyes. Lily sticks her middle finger up at James as he walks away.
You take a seat on the sofa and take a big gulp of the wine Sirius poured for you. Lily and Mary sat opposite and Mary quickly started quizzing you about your life.
"I can't believe we never met in school!" Mary gushes. "You were a Gryffindor too right?"
You nod, trying to hide the nervous blush reaching your cheeks.
"And you never spoke to James in school either?" Mary's eyebrows furrowed.
"Nope." You laugh softly.
"Thats kind of sweet." She smiles.
"So how young are you again?" Lily butts in.
"I'm 21."
"Godric, that's even younger than the last one." Lily scoffs, making your breath hitch in your throat. Lily had been the one you were most nervous to meet, every one knew they were an item in school.
All you did was smile in response, Mary elbowed Lily in the ribs to shut her up.
"What? It's not like he won't have a new plaything in a few months anyway." Lily whispered to Mary, but something to you she wanted to make sure you could still hear her.
You glanced over at James, he was leaning against the counter with a bottle of beer in his hands. You desperately wanted him to get you out of this conversation.
"So have you met James' parents yet?" Lily continued to quiz you.
"I-uh, not yet." You try to act interested in the conversation.
"They're so nice." She smirks. "I have lunch dates with Euphemia all the time."
Merlin she's irritating you thought to yourself as Lily stared at you with a smug look. All you could do was smile in response, unsure of what she was expecting you to say.
You take a big swig of your drink, finishing off the glass.
"I'm just gonna grab another drink." You excuse yourself, making your way over to James in the kitchen.
His eyes light up as he sees you walking towards him.
"Hi, baby." James smiles, turning away from Sirius and Remus to kiss your forehead. "How you getting on with the girls?"
"Fine." You say bluntly, not wanting to cause a scene but his eyebrows furrow instantly, he knew something was up.
"Wanna come with me outside for a smoke?" He asks and you nod.
He grabs your hand and guides you to the balcony attached to the flat, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it swiftly.
"What's up, princess?" He questions you.
"It's nothing." You sigh, trying to avoid his gaze.
"I don't care if it's nothing." James grabs your chin and turns your head so you're looking at him. "It's clearly bothering you."
"Lily has just said some... interesting things." You mumble and he immediatly rolls his eyes, taking a long drag from his cigarette.
"I should have warned you about her." He laughs. "She's just a bit weird with new people joining the group... she did the same thing when Sirius brought a girl round a few weeks ago."
"But that's different." You pout. "She's your ex girlfriend."
"Yeah, from when we were 16." He chuckles. "Is my baby jealous?"
"No!" You huff, crossing your arms over your chest. "She called me your plaything"
He was laughing now, making your cheeks grow red as you realised how silly it was that you were upset.
"It's not funny, Jamie." You whine. He takes one last drag of his cigarette before throwing it to the ground and taking a step towards you.
"I know, I know." He grabs your face again as you lean against the wall. "You're not my plaything, you're my princess."
"Promise?" You look up at him with wide eyes.
"Promise." He presses a soft kiss to your lips and you can feel his smirk as he still clearly finds the situation amusing.
869 notes · View notes
filynxs · 28 days
Text
: ̗̀➛ Feel You from the Inside.
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⚝ Sukuna is your ex. But he is still obsessed with you. Thus, he pays you a visit at your apartment. He knows exactly how much you still like him. After all, the only reason you left him was because you didn‘t like his dark side. While you are an ordinary woman who knows what’s wrong and what‘s right, he is someone who doesn’t seem to have any morals. But when you see him again, you can‘t help but give in to him and his seducing actions.
⚝ Sukuna x fem!reader
⚝ 18+; sexual content; dubcon; rough s*x; swearing; manipulation
» [Closer - Nine Inch Nails] «
0:00 ─〇───── 0:00
⇄ ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ ↻
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"Sukuna, I already told you, it’s over." you repeat your words with an insisting tone in your voice. Words which are not the ones he wants to hear.
Standing across from you, he slightly clenches his hands into fists in reaction. You can see how tense his jaw is as he moves even closer to you, causing you to step back until your back touches the wall.
Your heart is racing inside your chest, as if asking to jump out and run away from this man. But there’s something else deep inside you that causes the fear to fade away, turning it into excitement.
"Come on, baby—" he replies with his raspy voice, raising his arms as if showing how defeated he is by your attitude towards him. However, you cut him off.
"Don‘t call me that, Sukuna." your voice is shaky as you speak, merely above a tiny whisper, a silly little breath in the air that doesn‘t show how you actually feel. "We separated for a reason."
Sighing deeply, he massages his temple. His breath even brushes your cheeks, indicating just how close he is to you. But you don‘t care anymore. The way how his alluring, red eyes look down at you makes you freeze in your position, asking yourself what creature he actually is. You have never seen so mesmerizing eyes like his. Especially in that color.
While you are distracted by his eyes, his impatience grows as you don‘t say anything anymore. You just stand there, your words from earlier still lying in the thick air between you two.
"Y/N," he pauses, and his masculine hand finds its way to your soft cheek. His caress is not tender nor gentle, but rather a mixture of softness and roughness, "I still want you. You can‘t just give up on us." He takes a deep breath.
You gulp, and your eyes dart over his face. It was always you and him together, for years now. Until his morally dark attitude and perspectives became too much for you to handle. He did things to people you never imagined one could do…
Leaning closer to your ear, he breathes against it while he lets his hand wander down to your neck.
"Why don‘t we just," he pauses, his hand wrapping around your neck like a tight collar, "enjoy ourselves a bit so I can show you that you still need me?"
Your chest rises with the heavy breath you take, running your tongue over your lower lip. His pink hair tickles the skin of your cheek, sending a pleasant feeling through your heated face. It seems like he still knows what to do to make you fall for him. Or is it just that you never moved on from him at all?
"Your scent," he inhales deeply, moving his free hand up below your shirt, "it‘s still so intoxicating."
Dryness forms inside your mouth, being caused by the feeling that is coursing through your veins. You‘re not sure if it‘s just excitement or fear, but one thing is clear: His presence and his mere touches arouse you.
You feel his cold hand on your skin as he moves it upwards your torso, reaching your bra that is separating his fingers from your soft breasts. His lips touch your earlobe before he moves them over your cheek to your pair of lips. With hunger he kisses you, diving his tongue deep inside your mouth.
It almost feels like he is trying to taste you so desperately because he had been separated from you for so long. He needs you on his tongue. Every tiny inch of your entire being.
A soft moan escapes you as you kiss, mixing with the loud bumping noise in your ears that‘s being caused by your racing heart.
As your kiss intensifies, his grip around your neck becomes firmer. You can feel how your body becomes weaker by each passing second in which not enough air fills your lungs.
However, right before you are about to pass out, he pulls back, letting a spit string follow his lips, that’s connecting you. You catch your breath in unison while your gazes lock with an utter intensity. An intensity that resembles the fire between the two of you.
Without saying anything, he lifts you over his shoulder and carries you to your bed. You gasp as he does so, being too speechless to let a word escape your soft lips.
"There’s a lot we need to catch up on." he chuckles darkly, throwing you onto your bed so that your body is trapped below his large one. You can‘t do anything against his actions, being in a vulnerable state.
His hands grab your clothes, ripping them apart with no hesitation or mercy. Your breasts jump into his sight as he does so, catching his full attention. The red irises of his focus on your hard nipples, as if devouring you with just his gaze.
Leaning down, he opens his mouth wide to take as much of your tit between his lips as possible. The smooth and sensitive flesh fills his mouth, and his tongue begins to slide over your nipple.
Moans come out of your throat as you squirm, and he grins only in reaction. His smirk touches your breast, his voice vibrating against your hard nipple as he begins to chuckle. His chuckle is so deep and raspy that it sends a shiver down your spine.
With his free hand he grabs both of your wrists, keeping you below his dominance as he sucks on your delicate tit. His skilled tongue plays with you, knowing very well what to do to drive you crazy.
"Your skin tastes so sweet." he purrs between his greedy sucks on your breast. It‘s almost like he can‘t stop caressing it, wanting to eat you up like a delicious dessert.
While his hand keeps your arms up, his other one roams your body, his palm stroking your soft skin until reaching your hot core. The searing heat that forms between your legs is almost unbearable for you. Now that he is playing with you like this, he has to finish what he started. Whether you like it or not, your body craves it.
He gives your nipple a gentle bite with his sharp teeth before leaning back to look at your lust filled face. His fingers move over your slick folds, feeling your damp pussy below his palm.
A dark snicker escapes him. "You still get wet so easily." To taste you, he sticks his wet fingers into his mouth, sensually sucking on them while gazing right into your eye. He licks your wetness off his fingers, making sure not to let a drop go to waste. His eyes roll back even, as if he‘s savoring your delicious taste.
He is… entirely obsessed with you.
Without a warning, he pulls his fingers out of his mouth and pushes them inside yours. A string of his spit follows his finger tips in the process. You moan as his long, thick fingers penetrate you, reaching so deep that it almost hits your throat, causing you to gag ever so slightly.
Your body‘s reactions cause him to chuckle, and he doesn‘t stop. His hand that has been holding your wrists against the mattress now reach down to your pounding clit. However, you keep your hands on the place he pushed them up earlier, showing just how much control he has over you. But you like it.
His fingers move on your clit in circular movements before he grows bolder and harsher with his actions. He rubs your clit with a fast pace, pulling on it and squeezing it between his thumb and index finger. Your moans fill the steamy silence, sounding like music to his ears. The flesh he is playing with throbs between his fingers, swelling more and more as he proceeds to play with your sweet spot.
The hard bulge in his pants grows harder by each passing second, rubbing against his clothes. Thus, he slowly grinds his hips against the mattress, and a deep groan escapes him.
You feel your climax approaching, causing you to squirm below him. Continuously caressing your clit, he grins as he notices your lustful expression. The way how you gaze at him while his touch pleases you turns him on even more, giving him the urge to just rip his clothes off and fuck you senseless.
As you reach your peak of pleasure, your teeth gently bite his fingers that are still inside your mouth. A needy groan comes out of you, vibrating in your throat. Your hips buck against his fingers that are still playing with you, and a hot, sweet nectar shoots out of you. The entire body of yours shudders in pleasure, savoring the orgasm and the tiniest seconds of it.
After your intense orgasm, he leans back, pulling his hands off you. Your sweet liquid is on his fingers, dripping down onto your crotch. He licks them clean, softly humming in satisfaction as your taste fills his mouth.
You turn him on, and this makes you aroused, causing your swollen clit to throb even faster. Just the thought of him getting off on you drives you insane. The fact that his cock is getting rock hard just because of you makes you wet. And it has always been like this since you two were in a relationship.
"Sukuna—" you pant, sweat rolling down your temple. But he cuts you off by pressing his index finger against your lips, silencing you.
"Quiet." he murmurs, "It‘s going to be amazing."
His hands wander down your waist until reaching your hips, giving them a rough squeeze. He then proceeds to rip his shirt off before making his trousers vanish from his body. You look down and see his hard cock coming into your sight, being adorned with black tattoos that also cover his entire body.
He‘s attractive. No, not just that. He‘s fucking sexy. And he knows it.
Letting himself down on your lower abdomen, he makes his cock find its way between your soft breasts. You two have never done this, but he wanted to fuck your tits for a long time now. And he uses this opportunity to do so.
He takes your breasts and squeezes them together so that they hug his shaft ever so tightly. His length pulsates against your tender skin, showing just how badly he needs you. With slow movements he proceeds to thrust his hips forwards, causing his tip to touch your chin as he fucks your breasts.
A shallow groan escapes his throat as he uses your breasts to pleasure himself. Just the sight of how your soft tits embrace his shaft makes him horny.
You bite your lip, panting for air as he continues to pleasure himself using you. The feeling of his actions, however, don’t make you feel negatively used. It‘s rather like being useful for his satisfaction is not a degradation to you. It‘s a push into further pleasure from which you get off. For you, it feels good to be his toy.
"Fuck, that‘s not enough." he groans, tightly wrapping his fingers around your neck, "I wanna feel you from the inside."
He pulls back, his tip leaking his sticky pre cum already. It drops onto your stomach as he moves, aiming for your slick pussy.
"Y/N, turn around." he orders firmly, so you move. But he is so impatient that he grabs your hips and turns you around, causing your ass to be stretched out to him. His hard length touches you between your ass cheeks, eagerly poking you with its wet tip. "I‘m going to fuck you like an animal, hun."
Wrapping your hair around his hand, he harshly pulls on it, causing you to arch your back. His other hand holds you by your hip while he aligns his cock with your throbbing entrance. He can tell that your body is just as ready as his. And this alone gives him the permission to roughly thrust into you.
His cock easily penetrates you, sliding into your wetness. Your walls embrace his flesh with arousal, wrapping around it like a warm blanket. You let out a loud moan in ecstasy as he fucks you, thus his thrusts become faster and rougher. A slight pain comes along with his harsh penetrations, but this pain you feel instantly turns into satisfaction.
The wet sound of flesh slapping together fills the walls of your bedroom, being the beat to the melody that is being created by your moans. You are not only love making, no. You are making a song that demonstrates the bond between you two. A lovingly sexual bond.
With harshness his hips smash against your ass with every thrust he makes, and he buries himself deep inside your womb. His cock fills every single inch of you up, making sure not to miss a spot out. He picks up his pace, and he hits your sensitive g spot every time. That big, hard shaft of his makes you crazy, even though you thought you got over him. But no, and just as he said earlier, he is making sure to show you just how much you still need him.
"You are tightening around me." he exclaims with a heavy pants, leaning close to your ear from behind. His hot breath brushes your skin as he laughs. "Are you going to come?"
You whimper in pleasure, biting your lip to hold your needy noises back. Gripping into your bedsheets, you shift your eyes to the side to look into his red ones. He fucks you from behind while his body is lying on top of yours almost, and his face is right next to yours. Your hair brushes his face as well as his neck, slightly tickling him.
An invading gaze is apparent in his red irises, penetrating yours as if hypnotizing you.
"Yes." you groan in reply as you come all over his length, and your wet walls tighten around him. He feels your liquid on his cock, and he picks up his pace as you continue to tighten around him. This only pleases him even more, causing him to reach his satisfying climax a few more thrusts after yours. His warm seed fills you up, mixing with your nectar.
Both hands of his wander to your chest, giving your tits a squeeze as he rides out his orgasm. His loud groans fill your ears. He‘s not holding himself back at all. He actually wants you to hear how you give him the pleasure he needs. The pleasure he craves.
He pulls on your sensitive nipples, causing them to become even redder and harder than ever. You moan softly, cursing below your breath. "Fuck."
Keeping his pulsating length deep inside you, he snickers into your ear. His voice is so fruity and husky, its raspy growl sending a pleasant wave of electricity down your spine.
Your breasts are still being held by his hands, and he tightly squeezes them as he rolls your nipples. He knows very well how crazy it makes you when he does that. You love it when he plays with your tits. Thus, he does so.
Still catching your breath, you begin to relax your muscles. But he is not letting you rest.
"You‘re such a good girl. My girl." his hips rock against your ass again, and you can feel that his cock is still hard, pulsating inside you. "I‘m not letting you rest. So you better stay awake the whole night."
547 notes · View notes
eraenaa · 2 months
Text
Still Casual?
Part two of Casual
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Rafe Cameron x Reader
Summary: You promised yourself that you’re never going to settle for casual ever again— promised yourself you would never be another casualty of Rafe Cameron.
Warnings: ¿Groveling?, Mentions of Substance Use, P in V Sex, Oral Sex (F & M receiving {69}), Very Slight use of Force, Not Proofread 
Word Count: 4,681
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It was forthcoming; the warning signs were clear and loud, and red flags were waving, but you ignored them and proceeded without caution. Now, you must reap the consequence of living for the hope of it all. You returned home quickly after seeing such a scene at Rafe’s party. It was pathetic, but you kept looking at your phone in hopes that he would leave a message or even call you, wondering why you didn’t come. But why would he? He was preoccupied and entertained by a new ever-lovely jewel— what need would he have of you? You couldn’t even let yourself cry— you couldn’t even mourn because what is there to mourn? You could not grieve something that was casual. It would be foolish of you to do so. 
Now, you lay in your room trying to convince yourself that it was not as deep as you had believed it to be. That it should not affect you this greatly. Convincing yourself to be numb as your heart beats betrayal. You have betrayed yourself because you desired more— regretted your actions because you had settled for casual. 
You hesitated to call your friends and tell them what had happened, fearing they say, “I told you so” and “I warned you,” but they were gracious enough to keep those thoughts to themselves, suggesting you should visit them in the city and keep your mind off Rafe, which was difficult to do whilst on the island. It was a spontaneous decision, but with one message to your parents telling them that you’ll be going to New York and that you’ll need to borrow their jet and them replying with a thumbs up, you were quick to go wheels up and fly away from the outer banks.
“So, is it over now? Did you break it off with him?” Your friends asked as you gathered for brunch in the city. You frowned at their question, “What’s there to break off? We weren’t anything,” You mumbled. “Exactly, you weren’t anything! Why, then, are you so wounded?” Your friend, who was notorious for being frank and a tad insensitive, asked. You stayed quiet, not wanting to word out that you had optimism that your dalliance with Rafe would turn into something more. “You know what you should do?” Your friend asked, and you waited for them to finish their thought. “Give him a taste of his own medicine— the last time I was there, weren’t there two guys fighting for your attention? Use them and flaunt to Rafe this casualness he’s insisting on,” They suggested, and you scrunched up your nose in disagreement. 
“I’m not gonna do that! I… I’m not gonna use some innocent guy as a tool in the hopes of making Rafe jealous! That’s just mean and petty; besides, it might not even work.” You reasoned. “I just don’t want casual anymore. I want an actual relationship.” You sighed and locked eyes with your two closest friends. “You know what you have to do, don’t you?’ They asked, and you dejectedly nodded your head. “It’s just… if I end our arrangement, it means it’ll be the end of all that great sex,” you solemnly said, making your friends laugh at your admittance. “Oh, come on, it can’t be that great,” your friend scoffed in doubt, but you shook your head. “It is…I— the other night, he made me come seven times…seven! I could barely walk the next day,” you whispered, feeling heat rise to your cheeks as you recalled that memory. 
“Really? Seven times?” Your friend asked, intrigued, and you nodded your head, seeing the slight bewilderment in their eyes. “No! That’s beside the point! You deserve someone better— like those guys in those movies and books you love! Not this… frat bro who uses women as his cock warmer!” You sighed and nodded your head in agreement. “I knew you moving to North Carolina was a mistake,” Your friend sighed, “You’re too good for that place— it’s practically Florida!” Your friends said it with disgust, and you laughed at their snobbiness. You spent a week in the city, your friends trying hard to preoccupy your mind and show that you deserved better than Rafe. That you should never settle again— that tens or even hundreds of guys would treat you better than he would. Taking you to bars and parties from Brooklyn to the Upper East Side just to find a guy that would take your mind off of Rafe, none did the job. 
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You went back to the Outer Banks feeling a bit better, your friends finally convincing you to remove any casual attachments because, knowing you, you would stay for more and be subjected to being one of Rafe’s playthings as long as he’d hold you in his arms. You were about to message him, asking him to meet you by the beach to halt your affairs with him and end your casual relationship. But before you could even type out the message, the doorbell rang, and you heard the hushed voice of the housemaid talking with Rafe. You furrowed your brows but stayed in your spot, not wanting to check if it was actually Rafe because if he saw you now, you would have no choice but to halt and cut ties. 
“Where were you? I’ve been calling you since last week, and you’ve been ignoring my calls and messages.” Your back was against him as he found you in the dining room. Your knees felt weak as you heard the deep baritone of his voice and the distinct smell of his cologne. You gathered the courage to face him, “I was in New York,” You reasoned and tried hard not to show hesitancy on your face. “Is that why you missed my party? I was waiting for you, and I even got that expensive ass wine you like because you don’t drink beer,” Rafe asked, walking towards you; his voice held confusion and, dare you say, sadness or hurt because you ceased contact with him for almost two weeks. 
You backed away towards the table and shook your head, willing yourself to stay strong and not grow soft by his charms or be attracted by his look; it was impossibly hard to do so. “No… I… went to your party,” You said, watching as Rafe’s brows shit in surprise, him inching towards you. “And, uhm… whilst I was there, I realized something.” You added and backed yourself toward the dining room table, nowhere to go as Rafe stood inches from you. “What?” He asked, trying to capture your gaze, but you were staring at the floor. You took a deep breath before the words left your lips, uncertain and fearing how he would react. Surely, he won’t react badly, right? You were just casual; he won’t be throwing a fit because you decided to end your dalliance. It won’t affect him; it won’t anger or sadden him. And the thought of him being unaffected wounded you.  
“I…I realized I don’t want this. I don’t want casual.” You explained. There was a beat of silence, and you finally lifted your gaze to see the confusion in Rafe’s blue eyes. “What… I don’t understand. I— you wanted this,” He said, and you watched the concussion in his eyes hide slight anger. “I thought I did. I thought I could do casual, but Rafe…” You sighed and stepped aside to put distance between the two of you. “Rafe, I’m a relationship type of girl; I like— I need commitment.” You explained. Rafe scoffed and shook his head, following you in the direction where you had walked off. “What is this? Some type of ultimatum? Now what? You’re trapping me in a relationship?” He spat, and you frowned at his words. 
“No, I’m doing the opposite! Rafe, I want commitment; I want an actual relationship, and I am completely aware that that is the last thing you want, which is why I don’t think we should see each other anymore,” You reasoned, growing frightened as the rage in his eyes was peeking through. “So what? You’re breaking up with me?” He gritted out, walking towards you, but you shook your head and walked further from him. “No, to break up with you meant we were in a relationship. You made it perfectly clear to me and to everyone that we weren’t,” The anger went quiet on his face, confusion covering it once more. “Nothing but a pastime— purely physical,” You sighed, reciting the words he thought you did not hear him say. You hear his heavy sigh, and an excuse was ready to be uttered from his lips. “I don’t wanna be your hobby anymore,” 
You walked off and heard him follow you towards the front door. “Baby, no— I,” You shook your head and felt proud of yourself as his little endearment did not waver your judgment. Continuing to open the door and motioned for him to leave. “I’ll see you around, Rafe,” You tried to smile and gently pushed him out of your home, out of your life.
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Two days passed since your last encounter with Rafe, and you finally decided to leave the solace of your home and venture to… anywhere. You knew you could not go about the country club for a round of tennis, knowing Rafe often frequents there for a round of golf. And you could not as well accept the invitation of Weezy and Sarah to hang out in their home. So you headed to the beach, to a cafe that had an incomparable view of the ocean. 
You were sitting by the window, your gaze shifting between the book you had brought and the crash of waves. Your quiet and focus were disrupted by the sound of a chair scraping and a presence appearing beside you. “That’s a good book,” You turned to your right in confusion, only to be met with blue eyes and a charming smirk on a familiar face. “You haven’t read, let alone heard of this book, Rafe,” you sighed, scooting further from him to keep your distance. 
Rafe clenched his jaw as he felt you inch further from him. Gathering your things to leave. “How long are you gonna keep up with this, huh? Come on, you may not want casual, but you cannot lie and say you don’t want me as well,” Rafe followed you out as you hurriedly walked away from him. You sighed and shook your head, mumbling “Wanted,” as a correction for Rafe’s statement. “What?” He asked and took hold of your hand as you started to walk off once more. “Wanted. It’s in the past; I no longer want casual, and I no longer want you. Just leave this be, Rafe.” You tried to act civil, and respectful. Trying to maintain civility and not burn a bridge that, in all honesty, you would very much like to keep. 
You feel his hold on your hand tighten slightly and see the rage in his eye, trying hard to be suppressed. “You have tens of girls waiting to be your next casualty, Rafe. Let’s leave this be… it has run its course. I don’t want meaningless hookups, and it’s clear that that is all you could give me.” Rafe’s jaw clenched as the truth slipped from your lips. “Bye, Rafe,” You said once more and started to walk away from him. “What do I have to do for us to go back to the way it was?” He called after a while; you wanted to groan as he followed you once more. “Come on, baby. I’ll give you a ride home, and we can talk about it… please,” You were starting to grow frustrated as his hands placed themselves on your waist again; it was shameful that it quickly brought back the need in you. 
“No, I’ll walk. And Rafe…you can’t have to do anything for us to go back to the way that it was— I don’t want to go back to the way that it was. I have explained it to you thrice now. I don’t want casual!” You were practically screaming, and you hated that you lost composure. You wanted to go about this whole situation maturely, but Rafe was a test of your patience. “God, you’re so hot when you’re angry.” Was all he said, a teasing twinkle in his eyes and a smirk returned to his lips. You scoffed and rolled your eyes, turning away from him as you were now desperate to leave. But Rafe never relinquished his hold of you, only pulling you close and smashed your lips. You kept your jaw clenched as he eagerly tried to solicit a reaction from you— kissed you fervently as he was desperate that you would reciprocate his kiss. You hear him groan and let out a frustrated sigh as he parted for air. “Enough, Rafe. It’s done; we’re through with this.” You sternly said and wiped your lips of him.
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A week has passed since Rafe kissed you. And you would admit, you were feeling withdrawals. You were missing him. Missing the way he held you close in sleep, with him burying his face in the crook of your neck or in your hair, and the way his arms would wrap around you so tightly yet so comfortingly. You missed how he would kiss your lips first thing in the morning and last thing in the night. You missed how he would bring pints you ice cream after taking Weezy to the ice cream parlor. You missed how he made you feel wanted— how he made you feel like you were the only one to bring him such blinding pleasure when you laid. You missed how you thought that you were made for him and how he was made for you. You missed Rafe. But not wholly enough to settle to be one of his girls once more. 
You were having a rare family dinner, and your parents finally came back from their trip and decided to stay home for at least a week and it went by quickly, with this being their last night and them flying off first thing tomorrow morning. You tried not to appear sullen— to actually enjoy their company, but it was difficult as Rafe was the constant thought in your head. You were seated in the dining room, your parents discussing their next trips and asked about your recent venture to New York, when the doorbell rang. You oddly felt your heart spike as you heard shuffling when your maid went to see who the visitor was. You licked your lips as you heard the far-off sound of Rafe calling for you, your maid entering the dining room and whispering that he came here for you. You excused yourself from your parents and hastily went to the front door, horrid to see the state Rafe was in. 
His eyes were bloodshot, and his form more rigid. There was a thing sheen of sweat on his forehead, and he smelt of booze, and your eyes did not miss the smidge of white powder on the side of his nose. He was fucking high. 
“Hi, baby… you look so pretty,” He slurred as he stumbled closer to you. You were mortified that he could be seen by your parents, especially in such a state. “Oh, you’re wearing one… one of those going out dresses,” he mumbled again, his hand going to your waist and feeling the fabric of your dress. “Are you on a fucking date? What? You fucking replaced me already, huh? Is that it?” He was no longer mumbling; his mellow state turned to rage, and you looked back down the hall, fearing your parents heard. “Rafe, shh… my parents are here; they cannot see you like this.” You tried to push him out, but he resisted, now more determined to step foot further into your house. “Like what? Are you ashamed of me? Is that why you ended it?” You stared up at him with him with a deep frown. You hear your parents call for you, and you feel your stomach twist in fear. 
You weighed your options; you could not let your parents see Rafe, but you could not push him out of your home and leave him in such a state. So you had no choice but to guide him towards your room once more. “Hm… I knew you couldn’t resist me. I missed you so much; I missed the way you would scr—“ You shushed him and made him sit on your bed, “I’ll be back— I still have dinner with my parents.” You said and hoped your mother and father would not grow suspicious of your absence. 
Your emotions were mixed as Rafe wrapped his strong arms around your waist as you stood before him. He nuzzled his face on your torso and hummed in satisfaction. “I missed you, baby… tell me you missed me too,” He mumbled against your frame. You tried to push him away, but he would only whine and hold you tighter. You had the faintest clue on how to handle him in a drunken and high state— he never was neither of those things whilst you two had your arrangements. “Rafe, please, my parents are getting suspicious. I’ll come back in a while.” You looked down at Rafe, who looked up to you with such vulnerability in his eyes that you had never seen. “I promise I’ll be back,” you sighed and kissed his cheek as a reassurance. Rafe finally relinquished his hold, and you ran back to the dining room and prayed your parents wouldn’t ask too many questions. 
Dinner somehow lasted for hours. Your parents were insistent on doing some bonding after many months away, playing board games, and even watching one of your favorite childhood movies. It was nice, you admit, to spend more time with your parents, but the thought of Rafe trying to sober up in your room and that he might be caught caused you to shrink in fear and panic. 
It was nearing midnight when you finally returned to your room, and you saw Rafe newly showered and waiting for you by the foot of your bed. “Do you want water?” You asked as you saw that he had sobered up. “No, I’m fine,” He said, but he could not meet your eyes. There was a moment of tense and awkward silence between the two of you. “You should… you should probably go,” You sighed and moved to the other side of your room to remove the earrings you adorned. 
Rafe did not utter a word, and you bit your lip as you turned to him. “Why?” He asked after a quiet moment. “Why did you end it?” He asked, and you felt exhaustion wash over you. “Rafe, I told you, I realized I don’t want casual, and that is all you are capable of. I’m not going to force myself and my wish for commitment upon you.” Rafe shook his head, “No. You were perfectly fine with our arrangement— what the fuck changed?” You licked your lips and thought twice if you should share with him your moment of realization. “I went to your party.” You stated and took your seat next to him. You saw from the side of your eye that Rafe had a frown on his face as he tried to take hold of your hand. “I went to your party and saw you making out with another girl… and there I realized that I can’t be casual. I can’t be the chill girl who settles for sharing someone they really like.” 
“You really like me?” Rafe asked, ignoring all your other statements. You couldn’t help but laugh as a boyish grin spread across his lips. “Liked, is the key word here,” You say with a small smile, but the grin on his lips faltered. 
“I don’t want casual.” Rafe suddenly announced and humorlessly laughed with a shake of your head. “You’re just saying that because you want us to fuck again,” There was a sting in your heart as you said the words. “No,” He denied, and you shook your head, standing up to put distance between the two of you. “Can you fucking stop walking away from me!” He gritted out and pulled you to sit beside him once more. “I never saw this as casual, okay?” You scoffed at his lie. “It’s true!” He defended, “Rafe, I heard you with your friends— you told me on three occasions what we are. I saw you making out with a girl! You saw me as nothing but casual!” 
“I don’t think you know what casual really is,” Rafe sighed and cupped your cheek; you tried to shift his hold, but you grew weak as you missed the way his large, calloused palm cupped your cheek. “If we were just casual, I wouldn’t have spent every moment of my free time with you. I wouldn’t be staying with you after we had sex and hold you ‘till we fall asleep. If we were casual, I wouldn’t attempt to cook you breakfast or go with you to those bookstores for hours just to hold the things you wanted to buy… I wouldn’t have told you about my issues with my dad, let alone let you meet my family! Baby, it was never casual.” You chewed on your lips as you felt your heart flutter, but your mind was battling with it. “You were kissing another girl— you bragged to your friends that I was nothing but a pastime.” 
“Those were mistakes. Topper was giving me a hard time— kept teasing me of how whipped I was with you and… I just wasn’t ready to admit it,” You bit your tongue as you felt the want to let a small smile slip your lips. “And at the party?” You instead asked, reminding yourself of the reason why you had the epiphany that you and Rafe could not work out. “It was a bigger mistake,” Rafe sighed, and you feel his thumb caressing your cheek, straying to touch your lips. “But it only made me realize more clearly that all I want to kiss and hold— the only one I want is you,” You leaned in closer to his touch. Ignoring the fact that your friends would be dismayed by your actions because you faltered by his words and his touch. “Do you believe me?” He asked as his face was inching closer to yours. You could not utter a word, but instead, you just moved to kiss his lips that you had desperately missed. 
“Rafe,” You mewled as his lips moved to your neck and his hand gripped your bosom. “You missed me, haven’t you, baby? Admit it, pretty girl,” Rafe hummed and nipped your skin but quickly soothed it with his tongue. You feel his ringed hand grips your thigh, his hand trailing up higher and higher. “Say it, pretty baby, tell me how much you’ve missed me,” Rafe practically growled. “Oh god, I missed you— so much,” You finally uttered and moved to straddle and push him down on the bed. You heard Rafe chuckle as it was your turn to pepper kisses on his neck. You feel his strong hands grip the flesh of your ass, and he guides you to grind upon him. “Let me prove to you that you’re the only one I want— will ever want, for that matter.” You gasped as Rafe barbarically ripped off your dress. “Rafe, that was couture,” You distractedly said as the fine dress was torn. “Baby, I don’t fucking care, I’ll buy you a new one.” He said and caught your lips as his hands fondled your exposed breasts, and your fingers tugged at the hem of his shirt. 
Your hands trailed the skin of his exposed chest, feeling the contours of his impressive physique, and your hands hesitated and hovered over his trousers. You looked Rafe into his blue eyes, “All yours, baby, I’m all fucking yours,” He growled and harshly kissed your lips as your hand slipped into his trousers and grasped his length that was already hard and throbbing. Rafe had no patience and slipped off his pants himself, smirking as you marveled at his length and your mouth practically salivated at the sight of him. 
“Tell me what you want, baby. Use your words,” Rafe whispered and nipped the lobe of your ear, making you whimper. “You… I want you,” You sighed as his fingers played with the sensitive buds of your breast. “Hm… what else?” Rafe urged, wanting to hear you foul and lewd— wanting you to utter your desires. “I… want… I want to suck you off and then fuck me after,” You whispered, staring into once clear blue eyes that now turned dark with lust and want. You gasped as Rafe altered your position. Him lying on your bed with your cunt hovering over his face. His hands guide you to lower yourself for your sex to meet his lips and your lips to meet his length. 
You could not hold in the moan as his hands forced you to shift all of your weight atop him, and his hand gripped your hair whilst your tongue traced the length of his pulsating member. “Rafe… oh fuck,” You cried as his tongue darted in and out of you, and you finally gathered the courage to take him into your mouth. You had difficulty before; you had quite a sensitive gag reflex, and Rafe’s massive length tested that. “Such a good girl taking me in the pretty mouth… so fucking good, baby.” Rafe praised against your cunt and granted as your cunt grounded itself on his face in search of further friction. Rafe felt the back of your throat squeeze him, and he feared he might spill himself in your mouth; that could not be. He needed to feel you around him before he could let himself feel such pleasurable release. 
You tried to catch your breath as Rafe repositioned you once more, you straddling him again. You buried your head in the crook of his neck as you sank down on his length. You hear Rafe wince in pleasure and pain as you sink into his cock and as you bit down on his shoulder blade. “So fucking tight… all fucking mine,” Rafe gritted as he was finally fully sheathed into you. “Rafe,” You called as you felt tears threatening to spill at the sensation of him being buried deep inside. “This is what you wanted, huh? You wanted to be fucked by me— only me,” You mindlessly nod your head as you feel him brush over a spot that muddle your mind and made your senses only feel pleasure. Rafe buried his face between your heaving chest and inhaled the scent of you deeply. Your hands scratched his back, making tingles reach the bottom of his spine, spurring him closer to climax. 
And though Rafe was desperate for release— he was addicted to the feel of your clinging and clenching around him, to the sweet moans that spewed out of your plump lips, and the tears of pleasure that cascaded down your cheeks. He wanted to savor you in such a state for a few moments more, even if it meant he denied himself the pleasure he had been seeking for the past two weeks. “Rafe… I’m— fuck, Ra…” You could not even finish or properly word out your sentence as pleasure consumed you. “Fucking hell,” Rafe gritted and tilted his head back as he felt your release trigger his own. 
You breathed heavily as you waited for him to spill himself inside you. Trying to compose your mind and control your breathing. You took his face between your hands, looking deeply into his eyes. “Still casual?” You breathlessly asked. Rafe shook his head and gripped your waist tightly. “Never casual.”
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