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#blonde and asshole is my type
ladysophiebeckett · 2 years
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do u ever start a book and just know in ur heart its not gonna be good?
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ah shit i watched top gun maverick and i fell in love with Jake "Hangman" Seresin. what has my life come to....
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zyafics · 11 days
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play fake | part seven
series play fake — ( masterlist )
pairing rafe cameron x female reader
summary when rafe cameron needs to secure a gf in order for his father to see him as a stable man, he enlists the help of a bartender who wants nothing to do with him.
content 18+, eventual smut, angst, fake-dating, jealousy, people-pleasing and independent! female reader, ward cameron pinning rafe and sarah against each other, rafe being an asshole
𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃 ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚
It's easy for you to pretend everything's fine.
You've been worried about the whole Aaron situation for the past week, but you couldn't let that be known. You were handling it—best you could—but, at least, it sets your priorities a bit straighter. You realize whatever the outcome is, you need Rafe to get this job.
So, you were going to play the hell out of the girlfriend role.
To get ready, Rafe picks you up from Sailor to take you to Tannyhill. This time, when you got into the car, it was met with complete silence.
"Hey," you greet, to which Rafe says nothing as he reverses out of the lot and returns to the road. You remember that Rafe doesn't function normally whenever he has these types of events. He's probably nervous about the upcoming gala, a need to impress his father once more and prove to Ward that he's capable. You don't hold it against him. "Okay, then."
You settle back against the leather seat. You weren't going to let him ruin your performance; the curated mood you set up for tonight. You were going to hold out till the gala was over.
Rafe glances over to you once he knows you're looking away. Your chin tucked in your palm as you watch the scenery outside the window. Something pinch in his chest.
His right hand slides over your thigh, exposed from your short work attire, and the warm touch surprises you. You turn back to the blond, tilting your head with a small smile. "Ready to talk to me?"
"Don't push it."
You laugh and the tension in his shoulders loosens. The sound always feels like a constant mark of normalcy.
"Who's watching your sisters tonight?"
"Huh?" You respond, the question caught you off-guard and you wonder if you misheard him. "Oh. Oh. I got a babysitter for them. They should be fine till tomorrow."
He nods, knowing he shouldn’t have asked but having done it anyway. "You could've let them stay at Tannyhill. I have people to watch them for free."
He pauses, holding his breath as he waits for your response. Very few people get this offer and the fear of rejection hangs over him.
"Nice try, darling," you tease, falling back to a sense of comfort, "but I'm fine. I got it figured out."
He‘s not surprised by your answer, but it annoys him nonetheless.
When you reach Tannyhill, you didn't bother to wait for Rafe to give you the boyfriend experience. You knew he wouldn't. Instead, you went ahead and opened the car door yourself, heading straight for the porch.
Rafe was just about to cross over to the passenger side.
Following suit, he unlocks the front door and grants you entry. You step inside, reveling in the details of the estate. Despite only being here a few times, you can recall the key pieces of the house—the crystal chandelier with dangling pendants, the cabinets of beautiful collector items from the Bahamas, the flowery display that Rose curates in her free time. You immediately check off all their placement in your head, strolling over to the staircase to ascend.
"Know your way around my house, huh?" Rafe taunts, sticking his hands in his pockets. You glance over your shoulders with an easy grin.
"Just trying to take notes for the next Mrs. Cameron. Don't worry, it's not for me." You wink, turning back around before you notice the way his smile falls flat.
Reaching Rafe's bedroom, you step into the familiar space and eyed it with suspicion. From social media, you saw that Rafe went to a party right after hooking up with you the other day. You will never admit it to him but you wanted to catch if there's any evidence of another woman.
But instead of finding a pair of panties on the floor, you find the red tulips sitting on his desk. Your guards lower.
After he gifted them to you, you cut off the ends and put it in a glass vase in hopes of rejuvenating the flowers. It worked. You nearly forgot about it since you haven't visited since that day, but you were surprised he kept it after all this time.
You turn around to Rafe once he enters. "You like tulips now?" You tease, to which he glances over to the bouquet.
"I forgot to throw them away."
"Sure." You hum, partially unconvinced but deciding not to take any deeper meaning to it. He probably did. "Well, I'm going to go get ready."
You head into the ensuite, dropping your bags on the floor. As you change into your dress, curl your hair, and put on your makeup, you realize you forgot your lipstick.
Searching through your bag and throwing out used brushes into the sink, leaving a powdered mess, you still couldn't find it anywhere. You frown, "dammit."
Your attire feels incomplete without it, but you're not going to cry over this miscalculation. Stepping out, you find Rafe, fitted with his tailored black suit, sitting at his desk and reading a file in his hands. His concentration breaks when he hears you exit. 
His eyes scan over your figure and, while he knows he's already seen you in this before, it does nothing to minimize how captivating you truly look in the dress. The dress he bought. "You look amazing," he murmurs, causing heat to rise to your cheeks.
"Thank you." You say with a laugh, uncomfortable at the way his attention is set on you. You need to expel it. "Unfortunately, I don't have any lipstick on. I probably left it at home."
"You mean this?" He picks something off his counter and holds it out to you and, lo and behold, it was your lipstick.
"Where'd you get that?"
"You left it here," he declares, lifting to his feet and approaching you with it. "The maids were going to throw it away but I assumed that..." He trails off, his eyes finding yours.
"That I wouldn't be able to afford another one?" You supply with a forced smile, knowing it squeezes your chest at how Rafe sees you. A Pogue who can't afford many luxuries. "Don't worry, Kook, it's like seven dollars, I would've bought another one."
That wasn't what he meant.
He remembered that you didn't let him buy you another one so he figured you wouldn't allow him to replace it either. But, he didn't know how to say that without coming off pathetic.
Instead, he returned it to its rightful owner.
Grateful, you take it out of his hand and begin to apply it right there. He watches you as you do, the freshness of plump lips replaced with a coat of red. "How'd I look?"
Kissable. Rafe swallows hard, tearing his eyes away and finding the empty space around your neck.
"Where's your necklace?"
You twist the cap back on the lipstick, tipping your head to the bathroom. "In there. I was going to put it on later."
"Let me put it on for you."
You blink up at him from the sudden offer. "You want to?"
He shrugs. He feels like he's playing a silent dance with you, hoping you’ll take the next step.
A small smile curls on your scarlet-stained lips and a flutter of butterflies release in your stomach. "Okay, come on," you take his hand, pulling him in front of the sink where you left your brushes, "don't worry about that, I'll clean it later."
Rafe honestly didn't mind. He likes the idea of you making a mess in his bathroom, the counter littered with your things. It shows that you were here. "Make sure to make it spotless. I don't want to see this shit tomorrow."
You roll your eyes and pull out the small box wrapped with a golden ribbon. "Yes, darling," you say with a mock, "would never want to disappoint the Kook prince."
He's used to feeling pride in being from Figure Eight, but something about the way you use Kook makes him wish he wasn't.
You take out the necklace from the box, internally reprimanding yourself at how expensive the piece is—knowing how it could be well-spent paying back Aaron—before handing it over to Rafe.
He places it over your neckline, pushing your styled hair to the side for full exposure. You watch him through the mirror, his concentration pinned on clasping the small hole.
"What were you working on?" You ask, filling in the silence as you refer to the file.
"A case for my dad." He explains, frustration slowly building in him because the hook won't puncture through the complicated loop. "He wants to close this deal tonight with one of his partners but they're refusing to budge."
You nod just as you hear him release a swear under his breath, his brows crinkled together and his patience thinning. You know the look. "It's okay," you comfort with a gentle tone, "take your time. It's not going anywhere."
It won't slip through. "I should've gotten you another necklace."
"I guess someone should've listened to me." You tease with a chuckle. Rafe flicks his gaze to meet yours in the reflection, watching your smile, no judgment in sight. His shoulders slacken a bit. "I guess it proves that you should always listen to your girlfriend. What's that saying? Happy wife, happy life?"
"We're not fucking married." He announces bluntly without much thought, his focus too wrapped up on the stupid chain. Your smile falters. Right, you got too carried away in your role. He clasps the ends together. "Finally."
You nod your head in gratitude as you silently slip out of the bathroom once again, making your way to the dresser where you left your purse. Your eyes gloss over the opened file on the desk and you stop in your tracks.
"Wait, I know him." You point to the paperwork, glancing over your shoulders to find Rafe. "He's that guy that owns the hotel chains for the tourists. The one who just bought up all that land near the marsh."
Rafe nods, picking it up. "Yeah. Cameron Development wants it but he handed the negotiation off to his daughter. She doesn't wanna talk and plans on proceeding with the original blueprint."
"But that doesn't make sense." You frown, plucking the case out of his hand. You look through the information. He lets you. "That land isn't a good location for a hotel. It's too close to the wilderness protection area for endangered species. They're going to get hell from the FWS."
Rafe stares back at your assessment. "What?"
"Look," you point to the map where he highlighted where the land is going to be used. "This is where the marsh is. This is where the hotel is going to be built. If you use that land, you'll disrupt the ecosystem and it's going to fuck you over later by the government."
He shakes his head, disagreeing. "We planned ahead for that."
"No. You only minimize it. You're going to cut off a main water source. It'll dry out the fishes and marines. You may be able to hold off the feds for a couple of years but I'm willing to bet it won't last longer than five. Max."
He's watching you, the way your brows knit together and your lips purse as you examine the case. "How do you know all that?"
"I work on the docks," you shrug, giving back the file to Rafe. "Heyward has been talking about how some Kook hotel magnate is planning on restricting a part of the marsh where they make their living. It's worrying them."
Rafe says nothing, glancing back down to the papers. "Well, Cameron Development was planning on using it for residential housing."
You shake your head, settling on the end of his mattress. It's so soft, unlike the one you have back home. "I wouldn't suggest that either."
He knows he shouldn't be taking suggestions from a bartender, but something in the way you held your ground makes him consider otherwise. "Why not?"
"Other than disrupting people’s livelihood? You don't want an alligator to end up on someone's back porch and they can't shoot it because it's part of the endangered species list. The lawsuits would be a nightmare."
What you don't explain to him is that you learned a lot of this because of what your parents drilled in you. They discussed local politics often. They believed it's important to have an understanding about your community and to know when certain corporations or people are about to harm it. That's what Kooks often forget.
"I mean, do what you want but that's my honest opinion." You conclude with a shrug. At the end of the day, it’s not your business.
Rafe watches as you lay back against his bed with a sigh. Your dress riding up; the high slit revealing more of your skin.
He has nothing else to say to that—to you—because, in some ways, you're right. You come in here and break down a problem he spent the past three days trying to figure out. It's maddening how incredible you are.
He throws the case onto the desk. His focus now pinned on you as his knees sink to the space beside your hips and he hovers over you, strong arms pressed next to your head.
"You're pretty smart then, huh?" He goads, his eyes scanning over your face. The necklace tangled with his initials. How you look under him.
You grin. "I told you. I'm not just a Pogue with no brains."
You're referring to his insult at the bar, the insulating that you weren't smart enough because you were from The Cut. He couldn't believe you remembered that.
He should apologize.
No one taught him how.
He changes the subject. "So why is someone like you, who clearly has a knack for these types of things, running a rundown bar in the middle of the docks?"
Rafe doesn't recognize your smile slipping off, just slightly. You don't immediately answer him. Your hand raises to cup the side of his profile.
"Are we going to keep discussing business or are you going to kiss me?" You challenge, because that's the best way to avoid these types of conversations with Rafe.
He scoffs. The way you tease him sends a shot of arousal down his spine. "Who said anything about wanting to kiss you?"
You tilt your head with a raised brow. "Are you saying I'm wrong? Because I have a faint memory of someone saying I was right about a certain necklace…”
He shakes his head, the corner of his lips raising in a smile. "Never said that."
"Didn't need to," you declare with a wink, "I can read your mind."
"Yeah?" He leans forward, his mouth right beside your ear. "Do you know what I'm thinking of right now?" He lowers his hand to travel up your exposed leg, closer to your aching pussy. Your breath hitch. "That I want to rip this fucking dress off and fuck you right here?"
You wrap both your arms around his shoulders. "Yeah," you play along. "I did."
"And what are you thinking about?" He rasps, his eyes searching your face for any sense of affirmations. That you could possibly want him too.
You merely smile, gently pushing him back and onto the mattress. Changing position, you straddle him. "How about I show you?"
Planting kisses on the edge of his mouth, down to his jaw, to his neck, he tips his head back for you. You feel his erection hardening under his pants, pressed directly against your core. "Feels good, darling?"
Rafe draws his hands up your waist to hold you in place. He wants to kiss you now, desperately, but you avoid his lips as punishment. "A little underwhelmed to be honest, sweetheart."
You giggle, slowly rolling your hips. He groans at the sensation, feeling his cock tightens. "Are you sure?" You say, sucking on the curve of his neck as you hear a small moan leave his lips. The low sound igniting heat in your lower belly. “I think someone wants me.”
"That's enough." He announces, grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you into a hungry kiss. Both your hands slide up his chest for balance and you melt into his touch.
Red lipstick marks are covering Rafe all over, but he didn't fucking care. All he wants is to taste you, feel you, that he would gladly take the mess you give.
His hand lowers to your exposed cut of your dress, pushing the red satin away to gain more access. His knuckles brush against your bare cunt. "No panties?" He asks with shock, his darkened blue eyes finding yours. Your shy smile gives him everything he needs. "Bad girl."
Your expression is innocent. "It ruined the dress."
His fingers graze your wet slit. "I have to buy you more then."
You chuckle, before he finds your clit and rubs broad circles around the swollen nub, and your laugh turns to a shudder. "Th–that was a one-time thing."
"Is it?" He muses, his fingers entering you and a whimper escapes. "I bet I can fuck a yes out of you."
He probably could, with the way he handles you. Knowing your body so intimately, what turns you on, when you're about to come. You couldn't give him that satisfaction, pulling him into another kiss and silencing your response.
Rafe gives in immediately. Your lips part and he sucks on your tongue while his fingers rub you faster, little moans leaving you between kisses. You come on his hand within time.
Weakly pulling yourself off, you start to unbuckle his belt and take off his pants—his hips lifts to assist. When you free his bulge from his boxer-briefs, it stands hard and swollen. "Such a pretty cock," you sigh in awe, stroking your thumb over the bit of precum at the tip. Rafe lets out a groan.
"Are you going to ride me, baby?" He asks thickly, his hand landing on your waist in preparation to help you mount.
"Not right now," you declare with an apologetic smile, his expression falling. "I can't ruin my makeup." You look at your kisses smeared over his fair skin. "Well, more than it is."
His hand doesn't leave your hips. "You can always reapply."
You shake your head, gripping around his base, your fingers barely connecting because of his girth. Rafe's breath grows swallows as you start to pump him. "But I can make you feel better."
He loves the way your hand wraps around him, tight enough for him to feel pleasure with each stroke, and his balls soon tightens. "Just like that, baby," he moans, propping himself back by his elbows as you work on him. "I'm about to come."
You notice, with the way his cock is twitching under your palm, and just as he's about to release his load, you dip your head and cover your mouth over the tip.
"Fuck." He grunts under his breath as you suck him clean, your hand continuing to rub him to empty every drop. When he finishes his high, you pull back, wiping your chin with the back of your hand.
"Didn't want to ruin your clothes." You inform bashfully, standing up from the bed. He wanted to grab your wrist and pull you back beside him but the opportunity was missed.
You go to the bathroom to grab a wet paper towel and return with the intent of washing away all your markings on Rafe. As you settle beside him to wipe away the lipstick, he moves away.
"What if I want to keep one?"
"What?" You shed a small laugh. He can’t be serious. "My lipstick?"
He shrugs. "It shows that we're together."
Oh, right. For a blind, hopeful moment, you thought it was because he actually wanted you. More than just a fake title. No, it was just another shield, another way to demonstrate he's committed.
You silently agree, wiping away most of your kisses until the last one is left. Just right under his collarbone, enough to be seen with a good eye but mostly inconspicuous. "Good?" You ask evenly, to which Rafe glances over to the mirror and nods. "Okay, I'm going to fix myself and then we should start heading out."
You put on your facade.
It's easy. You just pretend you're someone else—not a lowly bartender from The Cut making ends meet but someone dignified and deserving. You play into the role of being Rafe Cameron's girlfriend with that mentality.
The gala is hosted downtown, at a large five-starred hotel with a massive ballroom. When you enter through the double doors, opened by a pair of waitstaff, you stare in admiration at the exquisiteness at the place. Rafe catches your expression.
“Close your mouth. You’re acting like you've never been to a gala before."
"I haven't." You snap back lowly, before remembering you're in public. You shift your tone to be more friendly. "I mean, this is my first time here."
Rafe's taken aback by your compliance. He knows he should appreciate it, because you always fight back against him on everything, but the achievement feels hollow and disingenuous.
The two of you fall into steps with the room, greeting familiar faces. When Rafe ends up in a conversation with a group of Cameron Development's business partners, you were casted aside in the role of obedient housewife—where the women socialize while the men talked shop—and you didn't like that.
With a gentle hand on Rafe's shoulder, you subtly interject yourself into the discussion.
"Y'know, Rafe's pretty good at that." You praise, causing the eyes of the older men to fall on you. Your fake boyfriend stiffens under your palm, his gaze set on your profile to understand what you're trying to do. "I saw the way he works those cases. He's dedicated and efficient. Business deals are meant to be made with a keen eye and deep considerations. Rafe always does that."
They fall silent for a few moments, watching you with amusement, before a man with a scuffed beard opens his mouth. "And how would you know anything about it? Aren't you a bartender?"
Rafe's jaw tightens at the way those men address you, with such a superiority complex. It reminds him of when he first met you. But, like then, you didn't let them bother you. "Yes and I'm also the sole owner of Sailor. I've been running it by myself since I was eighteen, which has had an average increase of 1.1% profit margins every year since. I know what I'm talking about."
Rafe stares at you, slack-jawed. He didn't know that. The group of men held similar expressions, filled with embarrassment at their misperception of you. "And, if I remember correctly, you had a construction plan for a new shopping center downtown, right? Instead of contracting with Cameron Development and utilizing local labor from the Banks—which Rafe suggested—you wanted to import mainland workers. How did that work out for you?"
You heard Rafe on the phone once, talking about a shopping center being built, with an intended budget of thirteen millions, wanting to cut corners. They didn't listen to Rafe with his recommendations, pinned him as too young and inexperienced to know better, that it ended up costing them twenty-one millions. It's still yet to be finished.
Scuffed Beard shifts uncomfortably under your scrutiny, his eyes flickering amongst his peers with humiliation. You smile sweetly. "I'm not saying this as a critique on your character, sir, I'm sure you're an incredible businessman." You declare, coaxing him with compliments so he wouldn't hold bitter resentment against the Camerons. "But, your organization has an aging board committee. You might want to consider a fresh perspective on things." You glance over to Rafe, in a subtle gesture. "It might even save you millions."
A woman's hand settles on your waist and draws your attention away to say something. When you turn back to Rafe, you present a loving smile, so bright and natural. If he was anyone else, he would've believed that you adored him, but he knows it's a mere disguise.
"I'm going to go mingle, darling, have fun." You raise to your tippy-toes and plant a soft kiss on his cheek. It leaves a faint lipstick stain but you figure it would help him sell his committed act.
Turning your heels, you leave and continue your (fake) girlfriend duties. Rafe watches until you disappear into the crowd and only then does his attention return back to the quieted group of boisterous men who once didn't view him as competent. Their gaze shifts to his, waiting.
"You were saying?" One of them offers, reminding him of an idea Rafe was talking about before you came in—one they were rejecting—and a concealed smirk rises to his lips.
The rest of the night is spent talking and establishing relationships. An orchestra plays in the background while the men gather around, discussing their partnerships. You rarely saw Rafe, except in the passing, and each time his eyes lingered over to your direction, you gave him an affectionate smile, your fingers waving fondly over the separated distance.
All for show.
In the middle of a conversation with a group of Ward's partners, which were talking about golf tournaments and fickle deals, he pardons himself and strolls over to you. You were in the middle of talking to a group of women, hyping up Rafe's reputation as a successful underdog, knowing that, while the women may be casted as gossips, they are also direct access to their husbands' ears.
His hand slides under your waist. "Excuse us." Rafe nods to the housewives, before pulling you away.
"What happened?" You ask quietly, searching his face. "Is there a problem?"
"No, everything's fine." He shakes his head. Something about it warms his heart, but he can't help but wonder if this is the continued act you've been putting on the entire night. "I just... I needed a break."
You nod. "That's fine. It's good to take a breath once in a while. I know it can be overwhelming."
His jaw flexes. Something about your saccharine mood this entire evening feels off. The way you were complimenting him earlier with the business partners feels dishonest. "Stop it."
Your brows furrow together at his sharp tone. "What? What did I do wrong?"
"That." He gestures to you as a whole. "The concern. That pretend. I wanna hear my girl, not the bullshit you've been putting up for everyone else."
You blink in surprise. You can't even fully appreciate him referring to you as his before scoffing at his audacity. "Seriously? You're mad because I'm being too nice? Would you rather I give you an attitude every time you open your mouth?"
He smirks, satisfied. "There you are."
You can't help but roll your eyes. "I can't with you. When I snap at you, you get pissed off, but when I'm nice, you're pissed off. You can't be pleased, Rafe Cameron."
He doesn't understand it either, but he loves the fire behind your eyes when you talk back and he loves the way his name rolls off your tongue. Perhaps, it's something about who you reveal yourself to. How much. The idea that he gets the other side of you—one where no one gets often—that's what he likes. It doesn't matter if it's your attitude or bitter remarks. It's different. Because it feels completely his.
"Yeah." He nods, cupping your cheeks with one hand, running the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip. "What can I say? I love this mouth. Reminds me of when I need to punish it."
You playfully shove him off but you can't ignore the knot twisting in your stomach. Your mind wanders to earlier, when you were giving him a handjob and swallowed his cum. It causes you to rub your thighs together.
Rafe recognizes that look. He wants to rile you further, maybe drag you off to a secluded area and fuck you—but he hears his name being called from behind and he looks up to see his father approaching. His spine straightens, his shoulders tense up.
"Rafe." Ward greets, glancing over to you with an acknowledged nod. "He has just arrived. I need you to convince him to settle on a deal before we lose that land. You're the only one I can trust with this."
He's a bit annoyed that his father interrupted his limited time with you but with the ounce of approval he's giving—telling Rafe he's the only person he can rely on, the one he wants to close the case—he can't help but submit.
When Ward leaves, Rafe looks back at you, his expression is vulnerable for a moment. His father is depending on him and the pressure is kicking in. He wants to ask you to come with him, for moral support, but he doesn't know how to word it without sounding inadequate—like he needs you there to succeed. So, he settles on his silence.
You return to the housewives but, this time, you remain closer to Rafe. You saw the look on his face and, while you wonder if you're overthinking, you wanted to stay nearby.
After his negotiation to the hotel Kook, the man considers his proposal. He tells Rafe that he needs a moment with his company to discuss before making a final decision. Once he left, Rafe releases a heavy sigh, searching for his father when a figure among the crowd makes him stop. Sarah.
What the fuck is she doing here? He has never once seen her attend any of Cameron Development's events, claiming them to be too meticulous and boring. Yet, here she is, wearing a formal dress and heading directly to their father.
Ward greets her with a beam of pride, his arm wraps around his eldest daughter and introduces her to his partners. Sarah reciprocates, waving and nodding along. Rafe could only hear the sound of his own blood boiling.
When his sister goes off somewhere, Rafe makes a direct beeline to his father. He pulls the patriarch aside. "What the hell is Sarah doing here?"
Ward knows the look in his son's eyes. "Calm down—"
"Calm down?" He echoes, incredulous. He hates that phrase. His darkened eyes stare down at his father. "What does that even mean? What's going on? Are you—" He couldn't utter the next words, his anger reaching its peak.
"Rafe, listen. Sarah, she's been out for a couple of months—"
"Yeah, because she fucking ran away."
"Language." Ward's command is sharp, causing his son to fall silent. "That's your sister. She's coming home and I'm trying to make her feel more comfortable."
"Comfortable?" He repeats with an indignant scoff. When Rafe was at his all-time low with his coke addiction, his father kicked him out of the house for weeks. But when Sarah abandons Tannyhill for months, doing god-knows-what with her boyfriend, Ward welcomes her back with open arms.
It isn't fucking fair.
"Does this mean..." Rafe couldn't finish the sentence. He doesn't know if he wants to know. All he feels is this intensifying frustration at the way his father could always accept his perfect daughter but criticizes him at every little mistake. Never good. Never enough.
Ward answers him anyway.
"Yes, I'm still considering her for the company."
He doesn't respond to that. He stares at his father with nothing more than pure, unbridled anger. Anger and rage. Rage and jealousy. Jealousy and hurt.
Ward tries to place a comforting hand on his shoulders, but the eldest son shoves him off. He turns, exiting from the ballroom.
You follow him.
"Rafe. Rafe. Rafe!" You chase after him, breaking into a mini-sprint as your heels click against the marble-floored lounge, before your hand catches his elbow. Your eyes search his hardened face. "Talk to me."
He pushes you away too. "I hate him."
"What?" You blink through the confusion. "What happened?"
"He always picks—" He cuts himself off, his eyes growing teary and he doesn't want you to see. "Fuck."
Someone walks by and Rafe tries to turn away, not wanting to be seen as weak by any passing stranger. You pay a glance to the oblivious man cruising by, before taking Rafe's arm and pulling him to the nearest empty space: a bathroom.
When the door locks, you face the blond. Your tone gentle, your approach cautious. "What's going on? Are you okay?"
"Okay?" He scoffs at your concern. He doesn't feel anywhere near okay. "What the fuck do you think?"
You frown, but you know this is always the first step. His anger always targets you first. "I want you to tell me."
Rafe locks his jaw, frustrated at the way you're being too kind while he's nothing but filled with rage. He doesn't deserve it. "My sister is back and you're asking me if I'm okay? Are you stupid?"
You cross your arms over your chest. Not out of anger, more out of protection. "I'm not part of your family, Rafe, I don't know why that matters. You're being mean and I'm just trying to help."
"Help?" He repeats, disbelief dripping from his tone. "Like you were helping me with my conversations? Talking me up? Making me sound like I was good?"
He's on the brink of a breakdown and you can't seem to understand him. Why is he making it sound like it was a bad thing? "I am. I'm trying to help you."
"You're just lying!" He accuses, his voice cracking from the intensity, stepping back. Like he couldn't trust you. Like you hurt him. "You say some shit, making me feel like you want me, and then you go off and do other shit that proves you don't."
You're not quite sure he's talking about you anymore. It's something more. It doesn't take a lot to figure out who.
You approach him calmly. "Is that what Ward is doing to you?"
Rafe doesn't answer you, staring back glassy-eyed with choked breaths. He's hurt. He feels unwanted. He can't explain it. Sarah returning home, to open arms, confirms something he’s always trying to push away. It means that his life will be more difficult; his goal of getting the family company more challenging. Because he knows, he will always be the second choice to the golden child.
And if you have that, who the fuck needs Rafe Cameron?
"You... you are good." You begin slowly, watching the way he shakes his head in doubt. "I told them the truth. You're an incredible businessman and you care about your company. I saw it at the country club's dinner, I saw it when we were getting ready and I see it now. What's the problem with me letting other people know?"
His insecurities are suffocating him. "You don't believe that."
"I do." You affirm with a nod, stepping closer to him. "I don't lie about that stuff. I admire it, that's why I remember."
His breath is cut short at your admission. Several beats take place before he speaks again. “You admired me?"
You laugh, the melodic resonance making everything feels better, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders while he leans against the sink. "Don't let it get to your head," you warn with a soft smile. "But, yeah. It reminds me of me; how much you care about your family's business."
Rafe doesn't say anything, his broken gaze finding yours. They trace over your features, trying to read any sense of insincerity in them, only to find none.
"Your family's business?" He prompts quietly, using this opportunity to gateway into learning more about you. To let him in—that’s how you earn his trust. You falter.
"Yeah." You admit weakly. Every bone in your body is screaming at you to remain silent, to keep him out, but you can't help but continue forth. "I inherited it after my parents' passed away in an accident."
His eyes widen, at you revealing this glimpse into your past. Discomfort settles in your stomach, at letting another person in, but you can't help the way your chest lightens ever-so-slightly.
You don't want to deal with it.
Leaning forward, you press a soft kiss on his lips. Tender and warm, Rafe's hands immediately draw up to capture your waist before reciprocating the touch. It turns hungry, passionate, and when you pull away, breathless, you flick your gaze up to him.
"Want to know something else?" You ask in a whisper. "I haven't stopped thinking about your cock all night."
Rafe feels himself hardening at your confession. You have that effect on him now. “Yeah?”
You nod with a timid smile, playing with the buckle of his belt. “Can I blow you?”
He couldn’t say no to that.
Unbuckling his pants, you remove them within seconds. The corner of his lips quirks into a smirk. “Eager, are we?”
“I told you.” You say as you pull down his boxer-briefs, his cock springing free as your hand immediately wraps around the length, stroking slowly. “I want you in my mouth.”
Rafe can’t begin to express how it makes him feel hearing you say those words, your attention set on getting him as hard as possible.
Instead, he removes his blazer and sets it on the floor.
Your smile grows. “Didn’t know you would throw away good money like that,” you tease, glancing at the jacket that is probably worth more than your entire closet. “Thought Kooks have to take care of their things.”
“I am.”
The knot in your stomach tightens. You know you shouldn't like the possession behind Rafe's voice but you rub your thighs together to satiate the feeling. He notices, his arrogance grows tenfold. "Does my girl like that? Does she like knowing I own her?"
Rafe is probing you but there's a sense of comfort in knowing that he has this effect on you. When you quiet down, his words being too real and your hands stopping at the base of his cock, he wonders if he went too far.
Until you whisper, "I like it when you take control."
"Yeah?" He can feel his skin pricking with excitement. "The girl who always has something to say wants me to tell her what to do?"
Your cheeks flush with heat before you nod. "Good. Now, kneel."
You sink to the floor, your satin-covered knees pressed against his jacket to soften the blow of the hard ground. When you align yourself in front of his groin, you dribble a bit of spit over the head before spreading it over his length. Rafe lets out a low moan.
"I like hearing how I make you feel." You sigh fondly. "It lets me know how to please you."
Fuck, Rafe thought to himself, the idea of you getting turn-on by pleasuring him sends all the blood straight to his pelvis. You feel him twitch under your palm.
"And I think you like that too," you observe with a small smile, "you like having me as your own personal slut, don't you?"
He doesn't get to answer before you tilt your gaze up to meet his, taking his cock in your mouth. Rafe lets out a groan, the admission of your words tonight igniting desire all over his body.
The way your eyes connect with his as you slowly take him in, inch by inch, drives him insane. Your hand syncs with your mouth as you cup him, twisting and rubbing.
"Shit," he whimpers, the way you squeeze him feels incredible while your head sinks deeper, causing a small gag to form from the back of your throat. "That feels so good, baby."
The praise goes straight to your core. Your thighs are slick with your own arousal, aching, but you refuse to move till he comes. Your tongue flicks over his length, rolling around his tip.
"You're doing so well." He grunts, his voice thick as his fingers grips at the root of your hair, his climax quickly approaching. "Just like that, I love hearing the way you gag on my cock."
You do it again, louder, this time triggering a guttural moan from him.
Your technique grows more confident as your hands fall to play with his balls, and your head bobs up and down his shaft. When your cheeks hollow to add suction, it doesn't take long before he feels his muscles tightening. He's close.
"Are you going to swallow for me, baby?" Rafe rasps, causing your heavy-lid eyes to find his once again. "I know you can."
You nod. "Yes."
His hot cum shoots to the back of your throat in fast spurts while you take it all. His moans complement his orgasm, riding out with loud praises and noises you can't help but fuel your own desire.
When you swallow all of it, you pull back, his softening cock pops out of your mouth. Your hands settle on the flat of your thighs and you look up to him with doe eyes to ask. "Better?"
Panting, he answers. "Not even close."
He reaches down and hauls you to the sink, making you giggle at the way he handles you. Your ass settles on the granite counter and Rafe wastes no time to pull you to the ledge, pushing your dress up to your hips to reveal your glistening, bare cunt.
"You're this wet from sucking dick?" He teases, massaging your slick inner thighs. You bite your bottom lip, nodding along.
"Just yours."
He loves it. Tonight, you're simply perfect. Saying everything he wants to hear. Everything he needs to feel. He gets hard again, so easy under your influence.
You notice, glancing down to his hardening erection with a teasing smile. "Already?"
He chuckles, capturing you into a kiss. He tastes himself on your lips, the acknowledgement signals a primal urge, while his knuckles brushes against your throbbing clit, causing you to jerk into his hand.
"Rafe." You whimper, breaking from the kiss, your eyes meeting his with desperation. The feeling between your legs growing unbearable by the second. "Please, make me come."
This time, in a bathroom, your plea is met with a different consideration. He smiles before nodding once, lining the crown of his cock against your wet folds. "Only 'cause you ask so nicely."
Rafe pushes in, slow and steady to let you adjust to his girth, while your hands clasps around him for stability, your nails digging into his shoulder blades. Then, his thrusts begin to speed up.
"You like that, baby?" He asks, his free hand rubbing your swollen clit simultaneously to his penetration. You nod vigorously, your eyes closing shut from the pleasure. "Your pussy feels so nice around me."
"Like it was made for you." You supply with a moan.
“That's fucking right. Like it's mine."
His hand raises to the cleavage of your dress, pushing down the satin to reveal your tits. He's never been happier to know you decided not to wear a bra and pinches a pierced nipple between his fingers, causing your head to tip back with a raspy mewl. "Just like these." He adds, knowing the way he's playing with them will make you reach your peak faster. "Fuck, these are my favorite things."
The way he's teasing you, fucking you, feels so good, but you can't help but release a small laugh at his assertion. "Of course they would be, you whore," you say with a wispy smile.
He abandons his play, causing you to let out a small whine, when his hand cups your cheeks, jutting out your pout. "Nah, this mouth is." He closes the distance, kissing you, before drawing out your bottom lip with his teeth. The act is so surprising, you clench around his cock.
It causes a shudder to pass through him.
"God, you feel perfect," he confesses, his thrusts growing less controlled as he's deep inside of you, feeling every little response between your legs. "You should've been mine a long time ago."
The fabric of your dress falls back over to your pussy while Rafe wants nothing more than to watch how he pumps in-and-out of you. The frustration of the cover makes him roughly push back the material against your hips.
"I'm going to rip your fucking dress off."
"Don't you dare." You warn with a weak glare, the pleasure building too strongly for you to feel any genuine hostility.
"Thought you didn't want it?"
"I never said that."
"What is it, then?"
A moan ripples out of you as you lean forward, your lips fall next to the shell of his ear in a whisper. "My boyfriend got it for me."
Fuck, that got him and he spills in you, this time, the motion leaving him more jerkily and unstable than before. Despite the overwhelming sense of pleasure coursing through his body, he isn't finished. Knowing you haven’t came, his fingers fall back down to your clit and begin to rub in tight, fast circles, trying to help you reach your own orgasm.
You do, following quickly after, that he feels your walls clenching around his warming cock. When you ride out your high, you're breathless as he pulls out.
There's silence, and you expect him to get dressed and leave the room, but he surprises you when he focuses on helping you clean up. From wiping away his cum around your thighs, to fixing your hair, and helping you off the counter.
You don't know how to feel from the gesture; your heart clenching from his gentle acts.
Only then does he redress himself, picking up the wrinkled blazer off the ground and throwing it over his shoulders.
"Wait," you reach out, pulling him closer to the sink as you grab a wet paper towel and wipe away all the smudges of your lipstick over his lips. Your voice is soft. "I can't let you go out there looking like that."
He watches you as you work, wiping away any residues clean.
"I don't want to go back out there." He admits quietly. "I just wanna leave. Are you good with that?"
The question came at a surprise. "You're asking for my permission?"
He rolls his eyes at the look on your face, his shoulders relaxing. "Either that or you're going to get pissed at me again for taking you out before you're ready."
You chuckle. "We can leave. I just have to say goodbye to the housewives first."
"Had to get the word out for your bar?"
"Nope." You shake your head, realization striking you that, throughout this entire night, you spent no time thinking about yourself. Your hand lands over the doorknob, and just before you twist to open, you spare a glance over your shoulders at Rafe. "We were talking about you."
You leave first and Rafe's momentarily stunned that you used your one opportunity to talk about him rather than advertise your bar as a catering option for these plentiful Kooks. His chest warms and he soon follows you back to the ballroom where you pay your farewells.
Off on the side, trying to avoid his father, Rafe waits.
When someone taps his shoulder, his jaw clenches, not wanting to face Ward, only to turn and find the hotel magnate standing before him.
"We talked it through." The man declares as you pull away from the final housewife to return to your boyfriend’s side. "You got yourself a deal."
He hands Rafe a card, scribbled with a personal number at the top. The eldest Cameron reaches out to take the small card from him, rejoining their hands in a formal shake.
"Thank you, sir." Rafe expresses, keeping his voice neutral. The man nods.
"You got a good head on your shoulders. Keep it up." He declares, before nodding to you in recognition and leaves.
It takes a few moments for it to register. How it happened. How it worked out. When Rafe turns to you, your elation is too hard to contain, and you tackle him into a hug.
"You did it!" You beam, louder than the normal convention, and catch the attention of the nearby housewives who watch the interaction between the two with awing amusement. As you pull back, your hands clasps around his shoulders. "I'm so proud of you!"
Those words mean a lot to him. Especially now knowing that they're genuine coming from you. He doesn't know how to react, especially with the look on your face, the expression of complete pride from his success. "Really?"
You nod frantically, your cheeks hurting from how big your smile is. "What did you say to him? How did you convince him?"
His fingers mess with the business card in his hands and he shrugs. "I told him what you told me."
You can't believe Rafe listened to you. "So, what are you going to do with the land? Are you still going to build alligator-infested houses?"
He knows you're teasing him but he chuckles anyway. His adrenaline comes down to a neutralized comfort. Safe. He can't help it. Your presence, your words, and your kindness drives something deep in him.
"No." He shakes his head. "We're going to use the difference to invest into the fishing industry on the docks, benefitting from their stock value."
What he's not saying is that your argument held value to him. That his decision to help the Pogues is because of you. But, you take it either way, the announcement bringing a realm of good news for the first time in a long time.
Your chest is overwhelmed with such gratitude, you almost confess something you shouldn't.
"That's good." You settle with a gentle smile, clearing your throat. "I guess this means we can both go home to a satisfying conclusion, huh?"
That was the goal. But now he's not too sure he wants to depart from you this early. Knowing who you truly are—not just putting up a mask and caring about him in public, but genuinely proud of him, supporting him, always in his corner—he doesn't want to separate just yet.
So, he does something out of his comfort zone.
"It's getting late and it'll be a long drive to your house. You should just stay over."
This is the second time he's asking you, holding his breath to see how you would respond, and when your smile softens just a bit, almost in a way to let him down, he thought he got rejected again.
You know you shouldn't. You know this is only going to complicate your personal and professional lives. You know you should go home and place some distance from Rafe, to save you and your heart.
But something in you clench about the offer. It feels too similar to hope.
You nod. "That sounds like another great idea of yours." 
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darkbluekies · 7 months
Text
Like magic —Part 1
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part 2 Male!yandere x female!reader x female!yandere
Hogwarts AU
Summary: your parents have denied you access to going to hogwarts, but finally in your 3d year, you manage to sneak off. But is life really that good at hogwarts when two students take a concerningly big interest in you?
Warnings: bullying, indications of unstable home life, kissing (dubcon?), forcing reader to throw up,
Word count: 6.8k
A/N: I have loosely followed the AU, but have made up my own things for the plot to work, so don't take my work literally :)
It has to be a joke, right? There’s no way that you can run straight through a wall! You gulp and look around, seeing if anyone else is doing the same, or if anyone is noticing how much you’re staring at the pillar separating the two platforms. Finally, you see two others make it through and you decide to make a run for it. You close your eyes and when you dare to open them again, you’re there. The train, the students, it’s finally time. After three, long years. 
You were supposed to start when you were eleven, but you weren’t allowed to. They didn’t believe you. If you hadn't picked the lock to your bedroom, you'd not be here this year either. You don't have anything — no books, no animals, no broom. You only have a wand and a packed suitcase. You watch the other students already wearing their Hogwarts uniforms. They hug their parents and catch up with their friends. You sneak onto the train and sit down in your own little coupe. Your heart is hammering against your chest. Your parents will figure it out soon enough and you're terrified that they'll stand on the platform and demand you to get off. 
Just start the train, make it leave.
"Oh, excuse me", a voice says.
You turn your head to the door, seeing a blonde girl standing there with a black, Grey and yellow uniform on.
"Can I sit with you?" she asks and quickly adds: "I saw you out on the platform. You looked rather lost so i just wanted to see if I could help you."
"Yeah, sure", you answer, startled. "Thank you."
The girl sits down on the couch in front of you with a smile.
"I'm Hedwig", she smiles. "Third year student. What's your name?"
"Y/N", you answer hesitantly. "I'm … new."
"I see. You're a first year student?"
"Not exactly, no … I'm supposed to be in third year too-"
"Oh, really?" Hedwig shines up. "I don't think I've ever seen you before. Which house are you in?"
"I don't know." You shrug embarrassedly. "This is technically my first year."
"Oh … I see." She smiles brightly. "That's totally fine. I can help you if you want. We have some hours to kill, so I can fill you up on most things so you're not as lost when you reach Hogwarts as you were out on the platform."
"Yes, please, that would be great. Thank you."
Hedwig fills you in on basic information. Four houses, different characteristics, a talking hat gives you your house. The school is a gigantic castle that has moving stairs, every house has passwords to their common rooms, some teachers are asses, some are okay, some are nice. Don't wander into the forest, especially at night, stay out of certain corridors. The janitor's cat is an asshole.
"I suppose you're a muggleborn then", Hedwig smiles and adds when you frown confusedly: "born and raised by normal people. Otherwise you'd know most things already."
"Are you?" you wonder, wanting to find something in common with this extraordinary girl.
"Halfblood, actually. My dad is a businessman and my mother is a witch. But don't worry, I don't care about what type of families people come from. It doesn't interest me in the slightest."
"Do some care?"
Hedwig squirms uncomfortably. "Some do. Some people think that being from a wizard family makes them superior to halfbloods and muggleborns, but don't you worry, those people aren't worth socializing with."
"Which house are you in?"
Hedwig smiles and shows you the yellow logo on her cape. You can see a badger in the middle.
"I'm a Hufflepuff!" she smiles and giggles. "The best house according to me, but I'm supposedly a bit biased."
"Which do you think I'll get into?" you ask.
"I'm not sure. It's hard for me to say after only talking with you for thirty minutes … but I think you could be a Hufflepuff like me … or a Gryffindor."
"Why a Gryffindor?"
"I don't know, but you seem to have a steady heart."
"Which is the worst house?"
"There's no such thing as a 'worst house', Y/N. Every house has both good and bad people — even Hufflepuff. Although some houses may have a bigger percentage of 'bad' people." She sighs. "Slytherin. Although I do have some friends from Slytherin, some of the students in that house can be quite … scary. Their pride can be extremely big and they let that go out over other people. Don't worry about it though, not everyone is mean."
You nod and gulp.
Hedwig catches you up on some easy spells and knowledge on the rest of the way. You avoid every type of question that can lead her to know about your … situation.
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You get sorted into a house in private, after Hedwig asks the principal about not pulling so much attention to you. You're embarrassed as if already. You're a Ravenclaw.
"The uniform is so pretty on you, Y/N!" she gasps as you come out of Dumbledore's office. "The blue looks really good on you."
"Thank you", you say and feel the material. "What do I do now?"
"We'll go back to the welcome ceremony and then you'll have to talk to your prefects. They'll fill you in with everything you need to know." She takes your hands in hers. "If you ever need any books, let me know and I'll lend you one, okay?"
"Thank you, Hedwig."
She doesn't let your hands go. You have to pull them back to be able to walk to the hall. You sit down with the other third years and glance over to Hedwig’s table.
"You know Hedwig?" a Ravenclaw boy with black eyes asks. 
"I met her on the train", you say.
"She's the most popular girl in our year", a girl says. "Everyone wants to be her friend."
"Really?" you wonder and glance at Hedwig who's sitting and smiling with her fellow Hufflepuffs. "She never came across as someone popular."
Maybe you're too used to how the people back home act.
When all the first years have gotten their houses and the food has been devoured, you follow your prefect through mighty corridors that have ghosts flowing past. You enter a rower with a long, spiral staircase. Your legs hurt after four steps.
"Y/N", the prefect says. "Before I show you to the dormitory, I need to talk to you a bit. Do you know any magic at all?"
"Hedwig taught me a bit on the train", you reply, concluding that only saying her first name should work if she's as popular as that boy had insisted.
"You'll have to take extra classes unless you want to start all over with the first graders."
You shake your head quickly. Rather hard work now than be known as 'the third grader among first years' for your entire school time.
You're led into the dormitory and granted your own bed. Your things are already in your drawers. After this long, eventful day, you fall asleep quickly, finally where you should be. When waking up, you’re first confused about where you are, sure that everything that happened yesterday was just a nightmare … but no, it was all real. 
"Now, don't be alarmed, my dear", Hedwig says when you meet her. "You will do just fine, okay?"
"I have never been around the castle", you mumble and take a bite out of your toast. 
"Your first lesson is Transfiguration. You'll have that class with the Slytherin students."
"Will we have any classes together?"
Hedwig smiles widely. "Sure, we will. But I think you better go now, you start in ten minutes." 
Hedwig shoots her book over the table.
"Here you go" she smiles. "Good luck now, I'll meet you for lunch, okay? You can sit with me."
"Okay, thank you", you say quietly and walk out of the great hall. Your heart is beating loudly in your chest and you start to wonder if the feeling of needing to throw up is real or only imaginary.
You find yourself lost in the large corridors before finally finding your way.
"I'm so sorry", you say quietly as you enter. "I lost my way."
"I will have mercy on you this time", the professor says. "But don't think that this will be a habit of yours, young lady. I expect you to be on time from now on."
"Of course, Professor McGonagall. I'll never be late again."
"Very well." She looks around. "Sit down beside Edmund, all the Ravenclaw seats are filled."
"Yes, professor."
You glance over the class and see an empty seat with a boy wearing the Slytherin uniform sitting beside it. He looks bored out of his mind. Carefully, you make your way over and sit down. Edmund glances at you.
"Who are you?" he mutters. "Are you a transfer student or something?"
"Something like that", you answer. 
The class starts and you immediately feel your head spin. You can't keep up.
"What's the matter, new girl?" Edmund chuckles while he leans his cheek in his hand. 
"I-I've never done anything like this!" you hiss to avoid anyone else hearing. 
Edmund’s face drops. He seems to … crawl together without having to move.
"You're a … a-", he starts.
"Edmund and Y/N, if you're going to continue talking, I'll use the both of you as guinea pigs — literally!" the professor says sternly.
Your cheeks heat up in embarrassment when the rest of the class turns to look at the both of You. Edmund rolls his eyes and grabs his book. When they turn around, you breathe out.
As break time starts, Edmund joins his friends.
"New girl", he says, catching your attention. "Next time, come earlier so I don't have to sit with you again."
"Of course", you mutter and leave.
You smile when you see Hedwig wait for you by the entrance to the big hall. She holds out her hand.
"I've missed you!" she smiles and hugs you tightly. "I was worrying for you all through Herbology!" She holds your hand while pulling you with her. "Tell me everything!"
You sit down by the Ravenclaw table to eat. Hedwig’s hazel eyes never leave yours. 
"I came late, so I sat down beside a Slytherin student."
Hedwig's smile thins out slightly. "Oh? Who? Do I know them?"
"His name is Edmund."
Hedwig chokes on her pumpkin soup and starts to cough. 
"What's wrong?" you ask quickly and pat her back.
"Did he say anything to you?" Hedwig asks worriedly. 
"He just told me to be quicker to class next time so he didn't have to sit with me. A bit rude, if you ask me."
"A bit rude? Y/N, that boy is a bully!"
You feel a shiver run down your back. 
"Edmund is one of those bad Slytherins I told you about", Hedwig says quietly. "He's a pureblood and … thinks he's better than anyone else. It's said that his parents helped … well, you know who, before he disappeared two years ago." 
Hedwig had talked about that man on the train. You gulp.
"Whatever you do, Y/N — and promise me this — don't go close to Edmund", Hedwig says and holds your hands in hers. "Please?"
You nod. Hedwig smiles and caresses your cheek.
"Let's go to the library and study on the lunch break", she says. "There's so much you need to learn!"
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You study with Hedwig every day. But she doesn't seem to mind, she neglects her friends to be with you. 
"What a cute sight, isn't it?" you hear a voice say.
You're sitting in the courtyard, studying magical history. You look up, seeing Edmund and his two friends come over.
"One half and one mudblood, how sweet", he says with a wide smile. "They really do be letting anyone in these days."
“What is wrong with you?” Hedwig gasps. “Have you no shame?!”
“What? Did I say anything wrong? Aren’t you halfblood, Hedwig?” He turns to you. “New girl, aren’t you muggleborn? What did I say that is wrong, Hedwig?”
“You do not call Y/N that. You are a disgrace to the wizarding world, Edmund.”
“I find it funny how someone that isn’t fully pure is calling me a disgrace.”
Hedwig grabs your hand and helps you up on your feet. 
“Come, Y/N”, she says. “Let’s leave. We can’t study here.”
You nod. While Hedwig drags you away from the courtyard, you glance over your shoulders, seeing Edmund’s icy eyes follow you. 
“I can’t believe that he called you that”, Hedwig says quietly and pulls you with her. “I’m furious.”
“What did that mean?” you ask carefully. “Why did that matter so much?”
“Mudblood, Y/N, is one of the foulest things anyone can ever call a person. It basically means that your blood is disgusting for not being born into a wizard family. He … he called you something less than human. It’s disgusting.” Hedwig hugs you tightly and hides her face into your shoulder. “You don’t deserve that. You’re such a sweet soul, I’m so sorry.”
“Hedwig, it’s okay”, you promise with a smile. “I didn’t take any offense — I barely knew what it meant.”
“I get sad for you. You don’t deserve that.” She thinks for a moment and then lights up. "Would you like to have a sleepover?"
"How would that work out?" 
"Sneak into Hufflepuff, I'll give you the password. I'll take all the blame if we get caught. Please, Y/N? It'll be so much fun."
"The girls you share a dormitory with will be tell on us-"
"No, they won't! Trust me. The girls like me, they wouldn't tattletail."
It must be beneficial to be popular. You frown. Aren't you quite famous now too? After being glued to Hedwig’s hip for over a month must have caused rumors. You have been so busy with your extra classes and studying that you haven't been able to catch up with it all. You barely know what your fellow Ravenclaws are named.
"Please, Y/N?" Hedwig pleads. "It will be so much fun. I will get us some snacks and we can read together and tell stories."
"Where should I sleep?"
"In my bed, of course! We're friends, it's not weird. What do you say?"
"Alright, if you promise that we won't get in trouble."
"No one will tell, I promise!" She takes your hand. "Let's go to the library and study now."
You do sneak into the Hufflepuff common room that evening together with Hedwig. You can't help but feel terribly wrong and every motion you make feels watched. At any time someone will pop out and you'll be caught. Hedwig pulls you through the common room and you can't help but gawk. Why weren't you placed in Hufflepuff?
Wearing your pajamas, you climb down into Hedwig’s bed. She smiles, cuddling up beside you. Her arm hugs yours, her head leaning onto your shoulder. The other girls in the dormitory glances at you, but none of them say anything to you. 
“Y/N, what do you want to do?” she asks. “Would you like to read anything? Or just sleep? Or anything else?”
“I think I’d just like to sleep”, you say quickly. “My nerves are still telling me that this is a bad idea.”
You don’t admit it out loud, but you want it to be over as quickly as possible before someone finds you out. Hedwig nods and turns off the lights. You lay down in the light of the moon and feel how Hedwig crawls down beside you. She pets your hair in a loving manner, feeling it gently.
“You have such pretty hair”, she whispers, making sure no one else hears. “I always stare at it. Have you caught me looking?”
“Actually, no”, you smile. “I know you look at me a lot, but I didn’t know you looked at my hair specifically.”
“I’m not only looking at your hair, silly. I think you’re pretty.”
“I think you’re pretty too, Hedwig.”
“Really? Do you really think so?”
You nod. She seems to burst with happiness.
“But you already know that”, you say. “Everyone loves you. Everyone tells you that.”
“Yes, but there’s a difference when someone you don’t care about says it and when someone you hold dear tells you.”
You smile. Hedwig’s hazel eyes glisten in the moonlight as she smiles widely and curls up in your arms, like a cat. She holds you tightly, hiding her own face into your neck. You’re not sure how, but you do fall asleep easily that night — snug and secure in her warm embrace.
The next morning, Hedwig doesn't want to let you go. She begs you to skip breakfast and lay in bed, buy you insist on eating.
“Before we go, could you please try my uniform?” Hedwig pleads and holds up the yellow and black uniform. “I want to see how you’d look like if you were a Hufflepuff. Please, Y/N? Just for fun?”
“We’ll be late for breakfast”, you mumble. 
“Nonsense.”
She has already start to tug at your pajamas. You give in and put on the Hufflepuff uniform. Hedwig watches you with excited eyes. 
“Oh, why weren't you placed in Hufflepuff?” she sighs. “Why weren’t you placed with me?”
“I don’t know, Hedwig.”
“It’s so unfair.” She pouts. “We belong together. We’re destined to be side by side. Why did the sorting hat have to put us in two different houses?”
“The sorting hat has its reasons. Now, give me back my own uniform so that I can go to breakfast.”
“Yeah, yeah …”
You change into your own uniform before sneaking out to the corridor with no one in sight. A small smile plays on your lips. You managed to to do it!
Together, you walk to the great hall but before you reach it, Professor Snape has caught the both of you. 
“You two better follow with me”, he says coldly. “You’re both in deep trouble.”
Shit. He knows. 
Hedwig takes your hand, squeezing it. You only have time to look at her terrified eyes before you’re pulled into Snape’s office. He’s not alone. It seems like the entire faculty staff is there. Hedwig’s squeeze becomes tighter. 
“Y/N, you went into the Hufflepuff house this night”, Dumbledore says, not sparing any sweet talk. “That is strictly forbidden.”
“I made her do it”, Hedwig says firmly. “Y/N hesitated, I told her into it, I convinced her. Please don't punish her, I was the one giving out the password from the beginning."
"These are serious things, miss."
"I know. I just … I really want to be with Y/N." She takes your hand. "More than anything. I’m so sorry for causing all of this, professor. I will never do it again. Punish me only, please.”
“Snape, this is a clear sign of innocent love”, Dumbledore tells the other man. 
You flinch. Love?
“I don’t care”, Snape mutters. “They broke the rules.”
“I don’t see any malice in their intentions. They only wanted to be with each other. I will not punish them — this time — but if they do this again, I will give them a week’s long detention in different classes. I can’t punish miss Hedwig all too much, after all, she is Y/N’s tutor. But if you break the rules again, Hedwig, we will find someone else to tutor her, is that clear?”
“Yes, professor”, Hedwig replies. “Thank you for not punishing us. We will make sure to behave.”
“You can go.”
Hedwig tugs on your hand before you leave. Your head is spinning with confusion. Who snitched you out? Did one of the girls do that? They could risk house points and to get in conflict with Hedwig … no they wouldn’t risk any of that. Then who?
“Breaking rules is so not Hufflepuff behavior”, a voice snickers. 
You turn to the side, seeing Edmund lean against the wall. 
“You spied on us?” you ask. 
“Spy?” Edmund wonders and stands up. “I couldn’t care less about the two of you, don’t flatter yourselves. You two are like annoying, loud flies, I can’t ignore you because you’re always in my face.”
“Don’t listen to him”, Hedwig says and pulls on your arm. “Let’s go get some breakfast, Y/N.”
“Careful, Hedwig”, Edmund smirks. “You heard what they said: break one more rule and you lose tutor privileges over Y/N.”
You roll your eyes as the two of you walk alongside each other. Edmund’s words don’t feel good in your stomach and you have an eerie suspicion that he’s going to do something. 
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You sit out in the grass, reading. While Hedwig is having her defense against dark arts-class you have a free period. Deciding to take your alone time to your benefit, you decide to read up on some things beforehand.
"Where's your little halfblood?" you hear that voice ask.
You look up from your book, seeing Edmund and his two minions grin at you.
"In class", you answer shortly and start to change pages, hoping he gets the hint that you're busy and leaves you alone. 
Edmund snatches the book from you. You cut your finger on the paper. With a hiss, you stand up. Edmund laughs as he looks in the book.
"I learned this last year", he chuckles. "You really are a transfer student. Cute."
"Give it to me", you sigh. "I'm not in the mood, I have to learn that."
"You won't learn from the book. We barely used it for this topic."
"Great. I'm doomed."
"I could offer you some tutoring. I got full marks after all."
You frown. "Why would you do that?"
"What can I say? I'm a generous spirit. Besides, I'm bored. Teaching a little mudblood magic could entertain me for a week or two."
"Don't you have class?"
"Not until twelve thirty." Edmund points at the castle wall with the book. "Sit down, mudblood, let's learn."
That 'nickname' makes your stomach turn. After knowing the full definition, you'd rather have Edmund call you something along the lines of a whore — that way you could actually have some clever comebacks. Mudblood, on the other hand, is nothing you can answer to. You sit down slowly. Edmund sits down on your left side and his two minions on your right side. Edmund opens the book and puts his finger to a paragraph.
"See this?" he asks. "This is something you have to learn in case you want to pass. The checklist doesn't contain this, but it will come anyway. So learn it."
You nod. 
"Take up your wand", he says. "You have to learn this spell."
You pick up your wand from your pocket. Edmund orders one of his friends to stand in front of you as he holds his hand over yours, showing you how you're supposed to move. His hand is cold. The spell causes his friend's wand to be sent flying. You lay the word Expelliarmus onto your mind.
"This is actually great for dueling", he says. "We had some dueling classes last year, but I guess we'll have this year too. In that case, you'll have to have mastered these spells or you can kiss your ass goodbye."
"You'll end up in the hospital wing", one of Edmund’s friends grins.
"H-Hospital wing?" you say and damn yourself for stuttering. 
The three of them chuckles.
"Yes, little girl, hospital wing", Edmund smirks darkly. "Ending up there is never fun. People often scream in pain there. If you end up there you'll never be the same again."
Your wide eyes make Edmund laugh. He presses the book in your arms and stands up.
"Let's make a deal", Edmund says. "Do you know what quidditch is?"
"Hedwig told me on the train", you reply.
"I play. If Slytherin wins the next match, you're going to be my little maid for a full week. You'll do everything I tell you to. And if those ridiculous Gryffindors win, you're free from polishing my shoes."
"I don't get anything either way."
"Don't be greedy, transfer student."
He takes your hand and shakes it before you have time to register. 
"Now you can't back out", he smiles proudly.
"Did you enchant-?"
"Yes."
You rip your hand back, snatch your book and start to walk away. You meet up with Hedwig who's walking out of the classroom.
"What's wrong?" she asks quickly, rubbing your shoulder. "You look disturbed."
"Edmund and his friends cornered me outside. He forced me to make a deal with him."
Hedwig goes white. "What type of deal?"
"He plays quidditch and if he wins the next match, I have to be his maid for a week."
"Oh, my God, I hate him." She cups your cheeks. "We'll come up with a way to stop him or break the deal. Worst case scenario, we'll have to ruin for the entire Slytherin team and then we'll be dead, but if we have to then …"
You nod.
"Let's get you something to eat", Hedwig smiles and takes your hand.
She stays with you until your class starts. The second the classroom door closes, her smile drops. She makes her way over to the Slytherin entrance and waits for one to come out.
"What are you doing here?" the Slytherin girl asks.
"I need to speak to Edmund, do you know where he is?" Hedwig asks shortly.
"I'd suppose the quidditch court. He came in laughing and said that he had to train hard this time."
"That son of a- … thank you, for your help."
"No problem."
The Slytherin girl passes her and Hedwig scoffs. The audacity of Edmund …
She makes her way over to the quidditch court, finding him training all alone. He doesn't notice her at first, but when he does  a smirk plays on his lips. He flies down to the ground and steps off his broom, holding it close to his body.
"Well, well", he says. "I start to believe that you're obsessed with me the way you're always hanging around. By the way, did you know that there's a rumor going around about you and Y/N? You're not slick, you know. Everyone knows that you're head over heels for her."
"Cut the talk, Edmund. Break the deal with Y/N. She has enough on her plate. I'm not going to let you hurt her."
"You came here to threaten me? Careful now, Hedwig, think about what you're doing." 
"I'm not going to let you take her from me."
Edmund takes a step closer. His icy cold blue eyes seem to darken without having to change their light color. "Listen closely, you filthy, little halfblood", he hisses. "If you try to interfere — if you even try as much as to stick your pointy little nose into my business — I'll put you into the hospital wing until I'm done with Y/N. Is that clear?"
Hedwig can't answer. Edmund walks past her, intentionally hitting her shoulder with his. 
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The day for the match arrives. 
"I think that I'm going to throw up", you mutter, taking a hold of the wood railing in front of you.
The two teams are flying above you, tension growing.
"I'm sure he won't win", Hedwig says, but she sounds hesitant. 
“Slytherin has the lead!"
"Let's hope that the Gryffindor seeker gets the snitch."
"Did you manage to destroy for Edmund?"
Hedwig shakes her head carefully. You groan and rest your forehead down on the wooden railing. Another score has been made and you don't want to look. Finally, someone has caught the snitch. Slytherin wins. You look up in horror, eyes darting to Edmund. He's looking right at you with a smirk. You're dead.
Already the next morning, Edmund waits for you outside the Ravenclaw entrance. He dumps his heavy books in your hands.
"We're having a class together", he says. "And you are going to carry my books."
You groan and take a better grip on his — and your — books, unsure how you're going to carry them all to the other side of the school.
"Where's your friends?" you ask.
"They're still at breakfast", Edmund replies as you start to walk. "I don't need them now, not when you're carrying my things. Speaking of friends, I don't want you to be with that annoying Hufflepuff during the entire week."
"I'm not going to be your dog."
"Oh, yes, you are — and you're going to bark if I tell you to."
"What am I going to do when you're in class and I'm not, then? Be all alone?"
"Yes, because if I find out that you've been talking to her, I'm going to make you wish you never transferred here, got that?"
You nod. Edmund doesn't say anything more until you reach the classroom. He catches up with his friends who laugh loudly when they see you. Oh, how you wish that you knew any transfiguration spell that could turn you into a mouse.
"Look, she's embarrassed!" one of his friends mock.
Others start to turn to look at you with chuckles. Their stares burn right through you. You want to hide your face in the pile of books in your hands. 
"Sit with me", Edmund says and grabs your tie to pull you with him. "You're going to take notes for me."
You sit down in the middle of the classroom. Edmund pushes you to the chair by the wall while he takes the aisle seat, trapping you. You take notes for him while simultaneously trying to ignore that he exists. Surprisingly, you're great at multitasking. 
You give him the notes as soon as the class is dismissed. Edmund reads it with a smirk on his face.
"Good job, little girl", he says. "I can actually read them." He folds it and puts it in his pocket. "Now, let's go get some air."
Together with his two friends, you walk out to the courtyard. You can see Hedwig with some of her friends walking from the Herbology classroom. She hugs books close to her body, one being the Herbology book, the other a book about potions. You meet her eyes. She suddenly looks incredibly sad, but tries to give you a small, reassuring smile. You're close to jumping out of your skin when you feel a hand on your shoulder. Turning, you see that Edmund has noticed Hedwig as well. He squeezes your shoulder while keeping eye contact with the girl. Hedwig turns her eyes away and speeds her steps.
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Not seeing Hedwig feels like a punishment in itself. Edmund and his friends aren't pleasant, at all — or at least not his friends, Edmund’s not been as bad as you thought. He's toned down on the vulgar nicknames and started small talking when you're walking.
"Stop fucking yawning", Edmund mutters and hits you in the back of your head.
"Why are we up before the sun?" you whine and rub your eyes.
"You're going to watch my quidditch practice."
He drags you out into the cold, autumn air, over to the high wooden pillars of the quidditch court. You're sat down in the Slytherin section and told to sit there until he's done. Edmund disappears to the changing room and comes out in his quidditch uniform. You sit still, watching. You can't quite understand the rules, even if you've already watched a match. You're unsure of what Edmund’s position is or what the flying balls are used for. Every minute grows colder. When the sun has risen, you're as cold as ice. You can no longer feel your fingers or toes.
Edmund flies over to you, now holding his Slytherin scarf and gloves in his hand.
"You're so stupid, why didn't you bring your own scarf?" he mutters while tying his around your cold neck. 
"I barely knew who I was when I walked out of the common room", you mumble. "I was so tired. And now I'm cold and hungry."
"You do nothing but complain, do you? Breakfast is in an hour. Think you can hold out until then?"
You nod tiredly. 
"Good girl" he says and puts the gloves on your cold hands. "Keep your hands in the gloves and put them in your pockets. You're like a child, unbelievable."
Ironic, coming from a brat like Edmund. You take a deep breath and sink into the seat. When Edmund’s done, he changes into his normal uniform and comes to meet you. You start to take off the scarf, but his hands stop you.
"Leave it on", he says shortly. "Come now."
The second you enter the castle, you feel warmer. You're about to remove the scarf for a second time.
"God, woman, just keep it on, will you?" Edmund mutters and ties it to the point where you choke. 
"We're inside now, I don't need it anymore."
"Oh, trust me, you do."
"Why?"
Edmund smirks. "To give your girlfriend a sweet little memory."
"We're not together though."
Edmund furrows his brows and nods, clearly thinking hard.
"Very well", he says. "Winners keeper, I say."
"What?" 
"Nothing."
His icy blue eyes sparkle in a new, competitive way, like he's now gotten a new challenge. His hands tie a double knot in the scarf before sending you off to the Ravenclaw table. The others give you weird glances. By now, it's not a secret that you're Edmund’s pet. Although it's only two days left of your week, you're sure that your reputation as his dog will stay with you throughout your entire schooling. 
You look around, noticing Hedwig sitting by the Hufflepuff table. She looks at you with something you can't describe in her eyes, something dark. She holds something in her hand. You can just make out the outline of a small, pink bottle. She gives you a small, sad smile. All you want is to go over and hug her, but you remember Edmund’s warning. You have a class together after breakfast however, he can’t forbid you from going to it. 
Your plate is already set out with a glass full of pumpkin juice. Devouring it would be an understatement — especially after the morning you’ve had. You're happy no one is taking a picture.
The day continues normally after Edmund’s rude awakening. You can meet up with Hedwig in Herbology class, and oh, how happy you're to see her. You hug her tightly, earning a mirroring squeeze back. She buries her head into your hair. 
"I've missed you so much", she coos, hugging you tightly. “So, so much.”
You breathe her in, mind getting fogged up with her scent. Oh, how you want nothing more than to ditch Edmund and be with her. Hedwig doesn't seem to mind how you cling onto her and you’re surprised yourself with how much you want to hold onto her. She strokes your hair with a smile. Being back with Hedwig — despite Edmund's warnings — feels like absolute paradise. The few days spent apart has made you see her in a completely new light. You’ve forgotten how pretty she is. 
"I can't watch that anymore", she sighs and starts to remove the Slytherin scarf from your neck. "Where is your scarf, dearest?"
"In my dormitory", you answer sheepishly. 
Hedwig gives you a motherly stern gaze before taking off her Hufflepuff scarf and tying it around your neck. It smells just like her.
"That's better", Hedwig smiles. "Don't you think so?"
You nod. Much, much better. The teacher interrupts your talk with demands of the two of you working. You don't mind, because you work with Hedwig who knows exactly what to do. 
"Would you like to read on the break?" Hedwig asks you.
You nod, not even thinking about Edmund’s threats. You follow her out to the yard, sitting on one of the brick walls with her. You lay down with her head in her lap while she reads aloud for you. You can't focus on the words, only how they're formed through Hedwig's pink lips. You want to feel them on yours. Before you have time to think, you reach up to kiss her. Her lips melt into yours instantly.Hedwig lets go of her book and cups her cheeks to kiss back. Fuck Edmund, you think. You pull Hedwig closer, wanting to be filled with her and her only. Everything about her is soft, even her kisses. They're filled with love and taste like strawberry.
"What the fuck are you doing?" the voice you've just damned says angrily. "I warned you, mudblood, didn't I?"
He rips you from Hedwig, up on your feet. Edmund glances from Hedwig to you, and back. He halts and grabs a hold of your face, opening your eyes with his thumbs. 
"You sneaky bitch!" he gasps. "You've given her a love potion!"
"I have not", Hedwig replies defensively. 
"Really? Then why are her pupils heart shaped?"
Hedwig doesn't answer. Edmund grabs a hold of your arms.
"If you excuse me, I'm going to go shove my fingers down her throat to get it out of her", he says coldly.
"You are not!" Hedwig screeches and rips you back.
"Then you'll get it out of her. I don’t care how, but Y/N is going to puke that love potion out before the break is over. Y/N is still mine, remember? I have two more days to do whatever I want with her."
Hedwig groans. Edmund, you, Hedwig and Edmund’s two friends make your way to the girls bathroom. The boys wait outside while Hedwig takes you into the bathroom stalls. She helps you throw up the love potion, holding your hair in her hands. 
“And there goes my well earned breakfast …”, you sigh groggily and get up from your knees. 
“I’m sorry, Y/N”, Hedwig whispers guiltily with tears in her eyes. “I didn’t want to trick you or anything, please don’t believe that. I-I just … I was scared that Edmund had manipulated you. I had to make sure that you knew that … he wasn’t good.”
You sigh and nod heavily. “I understand, but I had wished that you hadn’t given to me without my knowledge.”
“I’m really, really sorry. Can you please forgive me?”
The tears fall down her cheeks. You can’t be mad at her, not after every nice thing she’s done to you. You can see how bad she feels. You’re sure that she won’t do it again. 
“Of course”, you say. “I’m just grateful that you didn’t make a potion that did something bad. It wasn’t the potion itself that was bad, it was the way you did it.”
“I understand. I’ll never do it again, I promise! I will never, ever do anything like that again!” She takes your hands and sniffles. “I don’t want to lose you as a friend. I-I do like you more than a friend … but I will not let that come between our friendship. Please don’t leave me. I can lose every single friend I have … but not you. Oh, God, not you.”
You can hear Edmund bang on the door to the girls bathroom impatiently and you sigh.
“I can’t spend time with you right now”, you say. “Edmund’s right — unfortunately — I have two more days in his captivity. If not, he’s promised to ruin my life. I don’t want to take that risk, I’ve had enough problems.” You squeeze her hands. “It’s just two more days.”
Hedwig sniffles and nods. “Okay.”
You give her a small smile before going back to Edmund. He tells his friends to take you further down in the corridor while he talks with Hedwig. She wipes her tears and glares at him. 
“Silly girl”, Edmund scoffs. “You’re not that bright, are you?”
“I don’t know what you want Y/N, but at least I didn’t do anything to cause her harm, like you do”, Hedwig answers sharply. “I did something that would benefit her.”
“Yeah, keep telling yourself that. Y/N belongs to me now and if you don’t want to get hurt, Hedwig, stay out of my way, got it? I’m warning you. If I were you, I’d listen.”
Hedwig takes a step closer. “I’m not going to let anybody take her from me.”
Edmund’s eyebrow twitches. “Alright then. Suit yourself.”
With that said, he walks towards his friends and you, leaving Hedwig behind. He rips of the Hufflepuff scarf. 
“Get that ugly thing off of your neck”, he mutters and drags you with him. “Can’t even leave you alone for five minutes! Can’t fucking believe that little filth. If Hedwig gets to play dirty, then I do too.” He stops to wipe of your lips. “If you ever kiss her again, I’ll kill her.”
You try push his arm off of you, but instead, it tightens and he gives you a stern look. 
“I should just do it …”, he mutters. 
“Do what?”
He gives your lips a quick peck. You stand as frozen, looking up at him in shock. Edmund rests his hand on your cheek. 
“Never kiss her again.”
1K notes · View notes
ry0chann · 2 years
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Tsukishima gets like two seconds of screentime every episode but he has made his way onto my favorites list
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rottenblur · 4 months
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National anthem|A.ANDERSON
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College football! Abby x reader| 2.3k
Summary: Being dragged to a football game by your best friend wasn’t something new, but Abby breaks out in a fight with another player, you just happen to be the one to come to her rescue. Would you have done it all over again if you knew what was going to happen in your dorm that night?
Warnings: smut violence for a second, abby being taken (doesnt last long), alcohol use, fluff sort of, thigh riding, kissing, choking for two seconds, patching up abby, past abby being a asshole lowkey, abby being a air forces wearer.
She was a true american. Long blonde hair, a scholarship for college football, to be the best quarterback in the state. An expensive car, a doctor for a father, daddy’s money.
Abby had boys half her size all over her, too bad for them they weren’t her type, led alone she was taken. Abby had her bitchy, short, brunette girlfriend. You always thought of her as a small dog that never stops yapping.
You knew Abby due to your only other friend, the only other non snobby person at this school. She made you go to all of the football games played at your school, if they weren’t there she would drive the two of you wherever they were playing
She says it’s because she really likes football, you knew it was because she had a crush on the masculine linebacker.
You walk with her out of the cafeteria after paying an outrageous amount for an inappropriate amount of food. She turns her head to look at you. “I’m really excited, this is their enemy school.” You roll your eyes at her.
“When are you gonna admit it’s just because of that linebacker?” You said to her, as she starts speed walking, you say her name and she just flips you off.
You arrive at the game, sitting on the third bleacher from the top, your friend searching for her girl crush on the side lines.
She doesn’t find her but she sees Abby’s girlfriend sitting on her phone on the bottom bleacher. “Oh my god, of course she’s here. Does she ever leave her alone?” She was right, fucking lap dog never went anywhere without Abby. Always following right behind.
Sometimes Abby looked annoyed like she wanted some space, sometimes Abby’s hands where all over her, on her waist, her hips, in her fucking back pocket.
It pissed you off, was it jealousy? Fuck no you could care less about Abby. Yeah you had a crush on her when you first arrived on campus, her a year older she was settled in, confidently strolling around campus it was so fucking attractive to you. She knew who she was already.
After going to a freshman welcoming party at a frat, where you talked for the first time, the lust quickly turned to hatred.
You were waiting in line for the bathroom on your third drink, tipsy but not quite drunk. She came up behind you, also waiting. You stood leaned against the wall clutching your drink, she looked you up and down. “Hey.” You said to her, she looked into your eyes. She was dressed in a t-shirt, black pants paired with white air forces, her hair messily down.
“What’s up?” She said then looked around. You clutched your drink tighter, she looked so fucking good, her sleeves were begging for life, arms too big for it. “I'm good, you new too?” You tell her your name, she repeats it and you nod. “I’m Abby, not new.” She walks up to the door, leans in to listen. “Fuck, get the fuck out. go fuck in your dorm.” She says as she pounds on the door.
Your eyes go wide, it was very forward of her. Too forward? They walk out, a guy and her soon to be girlfriend, this is when you met her too. “God you’re fucking rude.” Abby grabs the back of her shirt, she must have been drunk for her to get physical over such a little thing.
She turns around, now looking up at Abby. “You always such a rude fucking whore?” She asks, the girl looked like she would rock her shit, except Abby would knock her out in one hit. She apologizes under her breath then walks away.
After that you thought Abby was too intense. Believe it or not her and Abby’s relationship was the same then and now, they still fight and argue except they fuck it out. How did you know that? Your friend or should I say best friend’s dorm was right next to Abby’s. She heard them fight then fuck almost everyday.
At least it sounded like she was good at it. One night you slept over to her’s around two am they argued, then fucked it out. You could hear the moans from down the hall, if Abby’s dad didn’t donate so much to the school she would probably be kicked out.
The game goes well, you actually started to learn how football worked with the amount of games you had been dragged to by your best friend. She hadn’t even talked to the girl, it was kinda pathetic, you would never tell her that though. Around the end the enemy team was one point away from winning, Abby tripped, losing the ball. The other team won.
You put your head in your hands in disappointment, your friend tapped your shoulder. “Are you good? What’s wrong?” You look up at her in disbelief. “They lost.” You point to the field, she widened her eyes. “Really? Why?” She says. You roll your eyes.
“You are funny.” You say that get up, following the crowd in leaving. You're on the ground next to the field when you look over, Abby is approaching a girl with her hands out screaming about her tripping her or something. She was fuming, maybe she didn’t get so mad that one time just because she was drunk. Maybe she was always like that.
Her girlfriend walks over to diffuse it, Abby pushes her aside and starts swinging on the girl, it’s not like she wasn’t defending herself Abby was getting roughed up too. When you saw Abby spit out blood and keep swinging, that's when you decided you’ve seen enough.
You walk back to the dorms, your friend already left when you stopped for entertainment. You put your headphones in, walking at a comfortable pace till you stop at the vending machines, right at the dorm entrance.
You took an earbud out when you heard footsteps behind you, looking behind that’s when you saw her. She looked horrible. Her braid had come undone, her nose bleeding in two spots, a dribble of blood dried on her lip. God she was going to have a black eye tomorrow.
“Holy fuck, are you okay?” You say to her, she looks at you and for a moment she has a soft look in her eye. “‘M okay.” You walk up to her, putting a hand on her arm and analyzing her face closer. She didn’t resist.
“No you’re not. Let me clean you up, I have some stuff in my room.” She looks around, looking at her shoes then you. “Fuck it.”
She walks up with you to your dorm, you open the door for her, her following behind you. It was the first time you had seen her walk behind someone before, she was always leading the way no matter who she was with.
“Sorry if it’s messy, been studying like crazy the past week, haven’t really had time for anything else.” She strugs, sitting on your bed, kicking off her shoes. You gather the tossed about medical supplies you had. Some gauze, bandaids and alcohol. You grab a soda out of your mini fridge for her eye.
You hold it out, putting it on her eye. “Hold that, don’t have any ice, sorry.” She smirks, you sit on your desk chair, scooting to the edge and wheeling it infront of her.
You tuck one of your legs in between her spread legs, your knee inching away from her crotch.
“So what happened?” You ask her as you pour some vodka on a patch of gauze. “Shit, alot.” You roll your eyes, dabbing around her wounds to remove the dried blood. You accidentally touch the gash on her lip, she flinches and lets out a whimper of pain.
She clears her throat, trying to play cool on the fact she feels pain. As if it’s not normal.
“C’mon I’m fixing you up, the least you can do is tell me why.” You squeeze her thigh as an effort to comfort her. “I uh broke up with my girlfriend, I took out my anger on some girl, knowing damn well she isn’t the reason we lost.” She said looking down. You laugh, slowing your hands just so she has an excuse to stay longer. Seeing her in this vulnerable state made her grow on you.
She was better like this.
“So you broke up with her and you’re mad about that. Even though it was your choice.” She nods as if it's a perfectly logical thing to do. “Maybe it was the best thing to do? You know, My friend’s dorm is right next to yours. “Oh god.” She says then grabs the vodka, taking a quick chug then letting you continue. She had long taken the soda off her face.
You were slightly hoping it was to look at you.
“Yeah, she was crazy.” You believed her when she said that, she looked like the type. Not that you were the type of person to judge on how they look. If you did you probably wouldn’t be playing doctor with Abby on your bed right now.
“Can I say something?” You ask her, waiting for her to confirm. She nods, you place a bandaid across her nose covering the gash. “She never stopped talking oh my fuck, I dont know how you dealt with that.” She laughs, leaning back onto her elbows.
“Yeah, you learn to zone it out after a while.” She looks at you, up and down her eyes falling on a necklace tied around your neck.
She leans to you, grabbing the necklace, rubbing it in between her fingers. Goosebumps covering your body when she touched your skin. Fuck. That little touch made you feel things.
She looks into your eyes, then to your lips. It looks like she’s trying to figure you out, figure something out. “You’re in my engineering class aren’t you?” She says, still holding onto your necklace.
You nod. “I'm surprised you knew that.” She smiles at you, letting out a slight laugh. “After i freaked out at that party, then saw you in class the next day I was so fucking embarrassed.” She pauses then drops your necklace. “I never forgot you, you know I thought you were pretty cute that night.” You blush, grabbing the vodka bottle, taking a lengthy sip then coughing.
You never thought she could be embarrassed, she had so much pride.
“I thought you were intimidating.” You say honestly, as the vodka burns down your throat. She tilts her head. “That a good thing? Cause I’m going to take it as a compliment.” She says, taking the bottle from your hands then taking another sip.
You don’t know what came over you but you put her hand on your cheek, you look at her face to see her reaction, nothing.
Again she looks at your eyes, your lips then back to your eyes. She leans in, placing her other hand on your neck. Her plush lips connect with yours, you pull back looking at her then back in.
She moved fast, an innocent kiss turned into heavy making out. She pulled you onto her lap, her arm wrapped around your waist holding you tight to her.
She pulls off of you, kissing from your jaw to your collarbone, your back arching in response. She moves you over slightly, her thigh now in between yours.
Oh my fucking god.
She sucks on your neck, guiding your hips to ride her thigh, slow and brutal. With one hand she puts her hand on your neck pulling you back into a kiss as she guides your hips faster.
You could feel yourself reaching your climax, moaning into the kiss when Abby gets a call.
She picks it up, connects her lips to your neck, not stopping your hips.
“What the fuck Abby, where are you I’m at your dorm? I need my shit.” You feel her sigh on your neck, giving it one last kiss then responding. You try to quiet your moans, it was torture.
“I’m busy.” All she says before connecting your lips with hers. You feel her flexing her leg, laying down the phone on speaker now guiding your hips with both hands.
“Well hurry the fuck up or I’ll find whatever or whoever you’re doing.” Said her now ex girlfriend then hangs up.
“Gonna have to speed this up darling, not like I won't be back for more, you’re delicious.” She said into your ear, pushing you harder onto her thigh.
That pet name, god it pushed you over the edge. You squeeze her thighs between hers as your body shuttered on her, she kissed you then you moved off of her.
You look down at her thigh, now has a wet spot from you, you look at her face, lip bleeding again. You lick your lips, the strong iron taste filling your senses. Had it been bleeding the whole time?
You drank down her blood as you filled your lust, she didn’t stop you.
There was something so wrong about it..
She looks at you then her phone, sucking her lip into her mouth then letting it go, touching it with her thumb. Muttering a fuck under her breath, then standing up.
“Gotta go ‘m sorry.” She says while shoving on her shoes, walking to the door then walking over to you to give your forehead a kiss.
She touches her lip to her t-shirt leaving a crimson stain bound to last. “See ya.” That’s all you say to her before she walks out the door, knowing there was a chance you’d never hear from her again.
You still let her go.
A/N: college football abby makes me feral ive seen a couple of these and wanted to participate :)) love yall
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realisticfanfictions · 4 months
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Being Sanji's Girlfriend & Baratie's Head Waitress.
Sanji x Waitress!Reader
Working at Baratie wasn't without its challenges, and the fights that sprung up because of them weren't rare either. You and your boyfriend never sweated the small stuff, after all working in a high stress environment made you, well, stressed. But maybe some things can't be resolved that easily.
Tags: Sanji x Reader, Waitress!Reader, constant bickering, mostly fluff with some angst, (heavy) swearing.
A/N: I love the Waitress!Reader so much for OPLA, so I've decided to do another one! I had to split this up into multiple parts, cause this ended up being a bit long. (Link to part two.)
Word Count is 4,829. Hope you enjoy!
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"Where the fuck are my entrees?!" Your voice echoed in the enclosed space, cutting through the melodic and rhythmic sounds of frying, chopping and other things that went on in a kitchen. You brushed past another waitress who wisely got out of your way, your heels clicking against the tiles as you marched up to the pass and slammed your copy of the meal ticket down. "Chef!" You called out, pushing back a strand of your hair as you scanned the chefs who were cooking at a ferocious pace. You locked eyes with an unfortunate new chef, but despite him immediately looking at his feet and trying to walk by, you reached through the window and pulled him by the collar. "Who the hell is on entrees?" He stumbled over his words and you groaned in frustration at his pathetic attempt at the English language.
"That's me." You pushed him back and looked past the cowering chef at the man who had just spoken up, your boyfriend and the love of your life, Sanji. His normally pressed and tidy chef attire was in disarray with his shirt untucked and his sleeves stained with various sauces. He sounded hoarse and was covered in a thin layer of sweat as he cooked some type of meat, flipping it over in the pan to cook it evenly. Intense concentration was etched into his face and the way he scrunched his nose was adorable, but right now you couldn't think of anything else but punching it.
You opened your mouth to speak, but a nearby busboy ran in front of you and you snarled at him. "Watch it, asshole!" You refocused your attention back on the blonde in front of you. "I have thirty-eight tables out there with at least four head a table, and only two waitresses working the floor-!"
He shook his head and his pan aggressively hit the stove top each time he moved it. "You know, it sounds so hard to look pretty and run around in heels all night, but I actually have a real job-"
"Oh really?"
"Yeah, really. And I'd appreciate it if I didn't have you bitching in my ear all night!" He threw some butter in the pan and began to bast the meat.
"Then maybe, if you were actually good at your 'real job'," You said with quotation marks. "Then you'd tell me why the shit it takes thirty-five goddamn minutes for a premade french onion soup!"
He whipped around with a laddle in his hand and he marched over to the pass. You both bent down to see each other through the window. "Hey, if I had any fucking help around here I would have gotten that to you twenty minutes ago, but I'm stuck here-"
"And here we go!" You exclaimed as you threw up your hands dramatically and walked through the swinging doors. You avoided Pattie walking out with a tray of fresh bread and popped on an apron attached to a nearby hook.
"-with my thumb up my arse because apparently no one knows how to plate a damn steak in this kitchen!" He moved around you as you took his place, grabbing the offending meat and placing it atop of the mashed potatoes.
Annoyed, you grabbed the garnish. "Well, where the hell's the plating station?"
Sanji came back and unceremoniously dropped a large stock pot next to you. He bent down to look you in the eye and threw his hands up in the air. "He quit."
Your eyes widened and followed him as he walked to the other side of you and started plating beside you. "He what?"
"He fucking quit! Just like every other bitch who couldn't handle Tuesdays at the Baratie." His brows furrowed and he let out a small shout of frustration. "Whoever the fuck did the halibut, refry it!" He yelled as he set it off to the side. "Just 'cause we're busy doesn't mean you can push out a shit and pass it off as fine dining!"
You plated another order and put it under the heat lamp at the pass, then rang the bell, but no one came. "And we're short-staffed on waitresses too!" You exclaimed and spotted the busboy from before, "Oi! You! Get off your ass and start serving!" You threw your ticket-book and pen at him, which he barely caught from where he was sitting.
"B-But I'm washing dishes-!"
You dramatically gestured around. "We aren't even sending anything out, so unless you've been storing them up your rectum, what fucking dishes are you washing?!" You grabbed the french onion soup in the stock pot that Sanji had given you and quickly poured it into three bowls laced with garnish on top. "Take these to 12, and the steak to 24. Tell 12 that they'll get a free dessert in about twenty minutes. Well? Get a move on! You aren't getting paid to sit there and look pretty, 'cause you sure as hell ain't fucking pretty!" He scrambled to pick them up and he quickly ran out of the kitchen.
"That turned me on more than I'd like to admit." Sanji appeared beside you with another plate and rang the service bell. "If we weren't busy I'd kiss you, darling." He exclaimed as he grabbed a handful of garnish and placed it atop of the plate.
"Oi, fuckface." When he looked over, you quickly pressed a kiss to his lips and grabbed the metal tray of halibut. "Now, let's get these pretentious pricks fed!"
You both worked side by side, barking orders at each other and bickering over every little thing you could - even Zeff yelled at you both to shut up. But it worked. Within minutes, you both had worked through the back orders and finally got to a point where you weren't struggling to complete orders from guests who'd been waiting for hours. When the last table left, you and Sanji just about collapsed. Leaning against the cool wall tile with you by his side, he sighed. "That was definitely one of our busiest days," He said with pure relief that it was finally over.
You couldn't remain standing and slid down the wall, your high heels clicking as you sat down. "Yeah, who knew so many people would wanna celebrate Father's Day?" You replied sarcastically, but a playful smile told your boyfriend that you weren't being mean. He softly chuckled and followed suit, sliding down the wall until he reached the floor with a groan.
He pulled out his cigarettes. "I've earned one of these." He says as he puts it between his lips and waits for you to light it. You roll your eyes and oblige, taking out your lighter and lighting the end of it for him. He took a slow drag, closed his eyes, savoured it, and then exhaled out the smoke.
"You almost make lung cancer look sexy." You remarked with a grin, and he returned it with his own charming, beautiful smile.
His eyes slowly flicked up and down. "And you always make yelling and shouting look so sexy." He licked his lips and leaned in, giving you a kiss that lingered. Your eyes fluttered shut and you enjoyed the small respite from the craziness you had both just experienced. Even when the kiss eventually ended, neither one of you moved away. "Are you working tonight?" He asked under his breath.
You sighed and pecked his lips. "In two hours."
"Till?"
"Four."
"Shit."
"I know." You pressed your lips against his once more and moved some hair out of his face. "But, I'm not working tomorrow so we can sleep in."
He sighed. "I start at nine tomorrow."
"Till?"
"Six."
"Shit."
"I know." You both quietly laughed and pressed your noses together, then rubbed them together while stealing kisses and giggling like you used to when you were kids.
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You'd been at the Baratie ever since you were fifteen, and you'd been dating Sanji since you were sixteen. It wasn't really something you both had officially decided on, nor did either one of you do this big, elaborate confession that made both of you ugly-cry. It happened slowly over time. Many customers and fellow staff would constantly tease you both with things like, "Where's your girlfriend, Sanji?" and, "Aw! You both are so cute together!" At first you both denied it, but eventually you just... stopped correcting people. You were each other's first kiss, first love... first love, and despite how it looks from the outside, you couldn't be happier.
"Oi, Sanji." You called out as you leaned closer to the mirror to focus on your eyeshadow. "Be careful, there's been a lot of pirate activity lately. They might stop by, so Zeff has officially-unofficially instated a no-tolerance policy for- Sanji!" You laughed when your boyfriend wrapped his arms around you and you struggled to do your makeup while Sanji hung off of you and pressed kisses along your cheek. "You toad! You're going to ruin my smokey eye."
He playfully moaned. "But you're so sexy," He whined and pulled back enough to give you puppy eyes. "And you shouldn't work tonight if there's pirates anyway."
"I still have to work." You replied, giving up on doing your makeup and stealing a quick kiss from him. "I'm the head of front-of-house, I can't just ring up Zeff and say, 'hey, your son wants to sleep with me so I can't come in today!'"
"No, you can't." At the sound of his voice, you looked up to see that your boss had entered you and Sanji's shared room. He would have seen the neatly pressed and ironed button-downs wrapped around hangers, and two mismatching pairs of high heels strewn about the floor. His eyes met yours. "We have a full house of rich, but important pricks tonight, and I need all hands on deck. If someone calls in sick, drag them out of bed if you have to."
Your boyfriend pouted playfully. "But she never gets any time off, can't we just-"
"(Y/N) is our head of house, she's too important to lose tonight." Zeff straightened up and crossed his arms over. "Little Eggplant, you can't distract (Y/N) from doing her job. Unlike you, she has to work to stay here." The old man looked over at you and you nodded, you knew that you were a staff member first and foremost - being the girlfriend of his adopted son was second to that.
Sanji's smile tightened, and he stood up. "I know." His blue eyes flashed with something that you meant he wanted to say something but didn't. His smile returned when he looked at you. "I'll see you in the morning."
As he brushed past Zeff and walked out of the room, you furrowed your eyebrows at your boss and father figure. "Now that's one way to get him pissed off at you." The words came out a little more aggressive than you meant to, but you didn't bother correcting yourself.
He sighed and turned to leave. "Leave it alone, (Y/N)."
"And one way to get me pissed off at you too." You dropped your eyeshadow onto the table and followed after him. His wide frame took up quite a bit of space in the hallway, but you squeezed past him to block his path.
Zeff groaned when he saw you and squeezed the bridge of his nose, then released it to gesture while he spoke. "(Y/N), I apologise if you felt offended. You're a part of our family, and--"
"I don't care about that." You scoffed in disbelief and gawked at his lack of social awareness. "You must be really thick in the skull if you think I'm upset about that."
His face scrunched up. "Then what are you upset about? Hm? What are you upset about now?" He gestured behind you. "I have dinner service to prep for," He started to list off on his fingers. "I have a team of flaky waitresses-your team of flaky waitresses to deal with, and I need to make sure that we have enough lamb being delivered for our special tonight. So what could it possibly be that is so important you're holding me up for?"
You counted to five in your head before opening your mouth to speak. "I love him. And I don't give a rat's ass that you sign my paycheck, or give me a roof over my head. You don't make Sanji, my boyfriend and your son, feel shitty just because you think it'll toughen him up. And you certainly don't use me to do that." You keep your gaze locked onto his. "You ever do that again? I walk." You stepped backward and straightened up. "I'll get the team ready for service."
You never regretted what you said. Was your tone harsher than it should've been? Yes, but you needed to get your point across to him. There wasn't any time to think about it though, because it was Friday night and thirty minutes before opening - you didn't have the time to regret what you said.
"Ladies!" You called out, then smiled. "And Sapi." Said fishman smiled at your acknowledgement as your team of staff gathered around to form a semi-circle in front of you. You held up your checklist. "We have fifteen V.I.P tables tonight. I expect everyone to be on their best behaviour. That means no frowning, no blowing your nose on the customer's napkins, and no- oh my God, Macy. If you don't shut the fuck up." The red-lipped, pigtail-wearing waitress jolted back from where she was gossiping with another waitress. You raise your brows at her as if to ask if she was done and rolled your eyes. "And no unprofessionalism." You finished with a glare.
Spai cleared his throat. "How many free tables do we have tonight?"
You looked back at the clipboard and flipped over the page, counting quietly to yourself. "There's two at seven and one at eight. The two at seven are one and eight, and the one at eight is seven. One can be for eight, but don't offer seven to under six because seven and six are over eight. Got it?"
The room was quiet for a moment, and Sapi slowly blinked. "May I have a copy of that, please?"
"I'll bring one to your station," You looked around. "Any questions?" Silence. "Good. Now, put on your fakest smile and happy ga-ga voice - we've got a line of ships waiting to be fed!"
"Let's do this, team!" Macy's voice screeched out and she was met with silence.
You exhaled gruffly and squeezed the bridge of your nose. "Macy, I swear to- let's do this, team!" This time, it was met with a round of cheer as they dispersed to familiarise themselves with their tables for the night.
A pleased sigh escaped you, content with your small but mighty team that you had managed to drag out of bed to work the floor. A glance to the suspiciously blank specials menu made you curse under your breath. You were going to have to talk to Zeff to get tonight's specials. With a defeated sigh, you clipped your pen to your shirt and sucked in a deep breath, before making your way to the kitchen where it sounded like food preparations were already underway.
"...and get those lamb in the cold room!" Zeff's voice was apparent the second you walked through those doors. The kitchen was a mess of people marching backwards and forwards like ants while Zeff, their queen, barked orders as they passed by. You thought about just turning around and pretending that the fight had never happened in the first place, but the old man spotted you and waved you over with a finger. "What can I get you, Sprout?" You breathed out a sigh of relief, hearing his nickname for you was like a wave of fresh air.
You straightened up and grabbed your pen. "Hey geezer, what's the specials tonight?"
He waited for you to finish writing "Specials" across the top of your sheet of paper. "We have Lobster Thermidor paired with the 1500s Chardonnay, or a White Burgundy if they snub the Chardonnay. Then we have classic Red-Wine Braised Lamb Shanks that you can pair with any Grenache you find." He slid a piece of paper to you. "These are the prices. I only want you handling checks tonight."
Out of sheer habit, you slipped the piece of paper into your bra. "Why's that?"
"Because someone messed up the till last night, and I want someone I can trust running it."
That made your heart clench. You sighed. "Look, Zeff," You started and lowered your clipboard. "I'm sorry for stepping out of line earlier. I was angry. Sanji was trying to get some 'us' time because we haven't even been awake at the same time for the last couple months. And when we have it's been with me running the floor and him- you know what I mean. Look, I'd never walk out on you, Zeff."
His face, as always, was blank, but you can tell he was processing what you had just said. He was quiet, but then he nodded. "Get those specials on the board. We open in ten." You bit the inside of your cheek and nodded, then turned around. "Don't fuss, little brussel sprout."
A smile wormed its way onto your face and you looked over your shoulder at him. "Fussin' ain't worth fussing over. Isn't that what you say?" You barely dodged an incoming head of lettuce.
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"Good evening, welcome to the Baratie. My name is (Y/N), can I get you started with some drinks tonight?" You were a natural at this. It didn't matter if you were having an "anti-person day", as Sanji called it, there was no denying that you had talent.
The man with soft, pink hair hummed and looked over the menu. His brass knuckles glistening under the dim lighting of the restaurant. "What are your specials for the night?"
A polite smile went a long way. "The chef has prepared for you a selection of the most wonderful meals made only from the finest and freshest ingredients in the Ease Blue. We have Lobster Thermidor paired with a Chardonnay that I find adds a bit of a fruity, uplifting compliment to the meal. And we have our high-in-demand Lamb Shanks braised in a nice red wine, and paired with only the best Grenache you can find for miles." You didn't bother telling him that it was the same Grenache you had found in the back of the freezer from four months ago.
"That sounds lovely, and what is the cost?"
You quietly hissed and looked over at the beautiful blonde who was sitting across from him, then leaned in to whisper. "I find it's best not to discuss such things on a date. You wouldn't want her to think she isn't worth it, right?"
Well, that certainly worked. He slowly looked between you and his date, who smiled sweetly and encircled the rim of her glass with her perfectly manicured french tips. He cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair. "You're right. We'll take one of each, and I'll have to rely on you for what pairs best."
You took the menu he offered with a smile and a nod. "Very well sir, I hope you two enjoy yourselves. Our bar is open all night." And with a wink, you danced away to the kitchen to place 'his' order. It was easy with men like that. All you had to do was dangle their woman's respect in front of them and they'd eat shit just to keep her smiling. But despite the monotony of it at times, you met a lot of interesting people from different backgrounds. You gave a small wave at the man at table two, a regular who had just come back from his royal ballet tour appearance and was with his rich, aristocrat girlfriend, who he said wasn't feeling well.
An set of voices, loud and uncouth, came from above and you stopped to cast a glance upwards. They were... pirates? Well, Zeff did say that they'd been more active around this area as of late, so it wasn't that much of a surprise - especially since there was already a couple tables of them. Sapi looked a little overwhelmed, so you sighed and grabbed a nearby waitress. "Could you take an order to the kitchen for me? It's table three with the two specials, two too. The man at two in the tutu wants it blue, but not at two with Ms. Sue in the red shoes. She has a touch of the flu, so any red meat or roux will make her spew. Got it?"
She blinked. "I think so?"
You patted her on the shoulder and briskly floated up the stairs with as much grace as a head waitress could muster. Their conversation slowly grew louder and you were able to hear some of their conversation. "My apologies, but I don't accept money for-"
"Is there something I can help you with?" At your words, the group looked over and Sapi, who had been trying to refuse some berri the orange-haired woman was offering him, visibly relaxed.
"Nothing is the matter, this group was just leaving." He answered and looked at them to see if they got the hint. The woman sighed in defeat and pocketed her cash. You looked over at the two young men leant against the railing staring into the restaurant below, they were very excited and looked as if they hadn't eaten a proper meal for a few days.
With your mind set, you glanced over at the time, then straightened up and smiled. "You know what? It's seven, so I believe we might have a booth available if that's suitable for your needs?"
She smiled and breathed out a small sigh of relief. "Thank you, here-"
You held up a hand before she could reach into her pocket. "Save that for your meal." With a quick nod to Sapi, you stepped aside and gestured toward the staircase. "Follow me." The man with green hair and three swords rubbed you the wrong way almost the second you laid eyes on him, and you could tell he felt the same way. It was almost a sense of mutual familiarity. But you broke off eye contact to lead the rest of this strange, rambunctious crew further into the Baratie. "The Baratie was established by our current owner Zeff, and we recently celebrated our tenth anniversary."
The boy in the straw hat gawked at everything he saw and heard you say, and smiled brightly. "This place looks like it serves good food!"
That brought a smile to your face. "It does," You said as you guided them to their booth amidst other pirates and similar rough-looking guests. "And I don't just say that because my boyfriend's the sous chef."
"Are you sure about that?" The guy in a pirate costume asked, his eyes sparkling with mischief and laughing along with his young friend.
You smiled along and shook your head. "I'll let you guys get settled in and will return in about five minutes with a menu. Please enjoy the music." With a few friendly waves and a "see you in a bit!" from the straw hat boy, you turned and walked toward the back of the room to collect a few menus.
Suddenly, the door slammed open and your boyfriend appeared looking more than a bit annoyed. You didn't even think he was on the line tonight, but your attention was drawn to two men who had began to cause a bit of a ruckus. You weren't close enough to hear what was being said, but you tucked the menus under your armpit and darted toward the pair that were now being consoled by Sanji. "...we don't waste food, and there's no fighting at the Baratie." You slowed your walk toward them and continued at a crawl. The man you had served not that long ago was dealing with a rowdy pirate. You heard something that sounded like a threat and Sanji spoke up again, his voice cutting through the argument before it had the chance to escalate. "And I'd like to pour you each a glass of Ithürzburger Stein. On the house."
The pirate nodded. "Okay, I'll have that drink." His brows furrowed and his voice grew irrate. "After he apologies for his bad manners!"
"Over my dead body." That was certainly the wrong answer. With a growl, they both lunged for each other and you sped toward them, watching as Sanji, in a blur, flipped over the table and kicked each of them.
The pink haired man grunted and got back up on his feet, drawing his gun but then froze when he felt something cold dig into his back. "I wouldn't do that if I were you." You warned, shoving your own gun into his back and whispered in his ear. "Drop it." Like the coward he was, he did and you effortlessly slammed the butt of your weapon into his temple - knocking him out cold.
You motioned for a nearby waitress to deal with the unconscious men, then snapped your attention to Sanji who picked up his plate of scones and continued his walk. "No cause for alarm, folks. Please, enjoy your meals." He called out and you quickly pocketed your gun back into your thigh-holster, smoothing out your dress and turning to the waitress who had arrived at your side.
After gesturing for her to take them out the back door, you readjusted yourself and quickly walked up to Sanji's side who's forced smile made you tilt your head in confusion. He shook his head, he didn't want to talk about it just yet. You both made the few steps over to the table you had just seated and, despite his mood, he set down the plate with his usual grace. "Hi, welcome to our shitty restaurant where the only thing worse than the ambience is the food. My name is Sanji. What can I get for you?" While he spoke, you placed down some menus and tried to ignore the straw hat boy who was currently stuffing his face full of our complimentary scones.
The woman grabbed a menu from you with a smile, but the others had their eyes locked onto Sanji. "One of everything, please!" The straw hat boy called out without taking a look at the menu you had walked twenty feet in high heels to collect.
"Any drinks?" Your boyfriend offered as he shoved his hands into his pocket, unconsciously looking for his packet of smokes that you knew he couldn't light. You briefly wondered if you should offer him a smoke break to calm him down. "One of our signature cocktails to help you choke down your meal?"
"Giving us the hard sell, huh?" She asked as she slowly lowered her menu and you found it increasingly harder not to smack the blond.
And, as usual, his entire demeanour changed. "Apologies, madam. I didn't see you there. Would you care for an aperitif to start? We have several rare Micqueot vintages in stock. Or perhaps you'd like a glass of Umeshu? You know, something sweet-" He winked. "-for someone sweet."
"Something wrong with your eye?" She asked, quirking an eyebrow.
You cleared your throat. "No, but there is something wrong with his head if he thinks he can flirt with another girl in front of his girlfriend."
That garnered a few giggles, snickers and mock gasps from the table. Sanji chuckled and turned to you. "I hope I'm not in the doghouse tonight?" He pulled you in and gave you a quick kiss on your cheek, but you waved him off.
"We'll see." You shot him a not-so-serious warning look and focused back on the table. "Sorry about that, did I hear you were after some drinks?"
The green-haired male looked you up and down, faint recognition in his eyes as he cleared his throat. "Can I get a beer and something for my friends?"
The pirate-costumed man spoke up. "Two beers. I usually have three, but-"
"And a milk!"
You scribbled down their orders, and Sanji's hand crept around your waist. "Three beers and a milk. And, uh, for madam?"
"Water."
"Still, sparking, mineral? With ice or without? Cubed or crushed?"
You stopped writing and slowly looked up to your boyfriend. "...Taken, Sanji." You reminded him and he stared back at you innocently.
Even the woman leaned back in confusion. "Regular water, in a regular glass. Thanks."
"Right away." He said with a wistful expression, and with the roll of your eyes, you dragged him away before he made a further fool of himself.
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AN: Sorry about ending it there, but it was getting WAY too long and I figured it'd be easier to break it up into multiple pieces rather than having one solid chunk of 12k words. Or however long this fic ends up being. I'm actually kinda digging it, so I may continue to write it for a while! Also, I have no idea how old Sanji is meant to be in this universe? According to the internet (and the massive reddit fight I accidentally spawned) it's a tossup between 19 and 26 (OP Sanji's vs the actor's actual age.)
I also hope you appreciate the word-puns. I don't know why but I really enjoy writing them and love to include them in my writing-
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dilfl0v3rss · 10 months
Note
I can just see soft and sweet ony getting a demeanor change once we piss him off real baddd and putting us in our place🫣
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thank you booooo!!! i feel like these fit well so i put them togetherrrr💋💋
“cmon ma y’know i love you. please stop wit the tears” ony kept his voice soft as he watched you cry in the passenger seat of his car. “i-if you loved me..y-you’d take me to get my nails doneeee” your sentences were broken between sobs as you covered your lash adorning eyelids with your palms. hiding your face from the man next to you.
ony sighed deeply as he watched you cause a scene in the car. you literally got your nails done last week, with his money at that, but since they weren’t done how you liked you soaked them off as soon as you got home. he’s told you plenty of times that you shouldn’t have left the shop without it done properly, but you ignored him. wasting his money with tears in your eyes and now here you were crying again because he refused to let that go.
“ma you know i love you. if i didn’t i would be giving you a band right now to go get your nails and feet done, but i love you so much i’m teaching you a lesson.” you rolled your teary eyes, turning your head towards the window as well as your feet while you basically ignored his lecture. “can’t waste my money and expect me to just keep reimbursing you. ion reward that type of behavior, and this?…this little attitude you getting wit me is gon get you nowhere”
although he was right, you were just as stubborn as could be. flipping your long blonde buss down with attitude before you aggressively dug in your purse for your phone. “rewarding my behavior? pshh…ima grown ass woman” you mumbled as you scrolled through the different apps on your phone. of course ony heard you, but he decided to let you rock, continuing to drive the two of you to the ice cream shop. he was teaching you a lesson, but he wasn’t going to be an asshole about it. if there was something else you wanted he had no problem giving it to you, but as far as nails went it was an absolute no.
“ima just get my other man to get it. might suck his di-” your mumbles were cut off by ony’s inked hand around your throat. before you knew it the car was on the side of the road and he had your face close to his. you giggled as you looked at his change in attitude, not taking him serious since it’s been so long since he’s acted this way. “that’s funny huh? c’mere lemme show you what’s funny” he practically yanked you over the center console, hands gripping your ass tightly as he situated your body on top of him.
“lean over my shoulder” he grumbled deeply, eyes piercing into yours, watching the giggly attitude you just had evaporate from your body before impatiently moving you himself. he yanked your skirt over your ass, gripping and rubbing you roughly as he spoke. “you like when daddy’s mean to you? like talking about this ‘other nigga’ and getting me mad?…huh?” a hard smack was sent to your ass, making you jolt as your hand flew back to cover the burning flesh. “move your fuckin hand and answer me mama. you like actin like a spoiled brat?”
he held both of your wrists in the same hand he held your skirt up with. holding them tight to keep you from moving. your wetness was already soaking your bright pink thong as you tried to plead with your angry boyfriend. “n-no! i don’t want you mad at me daddy. i was just p-playinggg” you whimpered as you felt two more slaps get brought to your warm ass. “i don’t give a fuck what you was doing. don’t you ever say you gon call anybody when i say no, y’hear me?”
it was time to break that stupid habit once and for all. every time you didn’t get your way from ony, you thought it was cute to say some “other nigga” was going to get it done. now obviously there was no other man, but the fact that you thought it was okay to talk about doing things with someone else boiled his blood. “when i say ‘no’ then it’s final, understand?” he said in an aggressive tone. “y-yea. i hear you daddy…swear i hear you” you mumbled before abruptly being sat back into your seat, ass sore and uncomfortable rubbing against the cushion of the seats.
“glad your ears work mama. now we gon do sum about that mouth.” ony slightly pulled his sweats down, releasing his dick from its restraints before taking your hand and touching himself with it. he’s been hard since you sat your pretty ass in his car. the sight of your khaki skirt barely covering your thighs and ass making him ready to take you in the backseat, but of course you ruined that by being a brat. “come suck this dick mama”
you eagerly leaned towards his dick, giving his tip some light licks before closing your pretty lips around it. as you continued, ony began driving the two of you home, forgetting the ice cream shop as you sucked him just the way he liked. “that’s right baby. this the only dick you ever gon be sucking aight?” you moaned a “mhmm”, letting the vibrations of your voice pleasure him even more. although you were doing a great job, ony knew that you gained pleasure sucking his dick almost just as much as he did receiving it, reaching around and brushing his fingers across your panties clarified that as he looked at your essence practically drip from his hand.
“cant have you having too much fun now can i? you wont learn that way” before you knew it, his large hand was outstretched behind your head, pushing you lower so you can take him down your throat. your gagging was like music to his ears as ony released deep groans into the air. “mmshit baby. taking me deep down that pretty throat” his words only brought more wetness to your core as you gripped his thigh as tight as you could to distract yourself from the lack of air you were getting. his dick moved in and out of your mouth at a steady pace, giving you only a second to breath in and another to breath back out every time he brought your head up.
“you gon cut that shit out f’me? gon clean that act up right?” he pulled your head from his dick, groaning at the quiet pop that rang in the air as you released him. you looked beautiful. spit soaking your lips as well as your chin, hair disheveled, and eyes eagerly looking up at him as you took deep breaths of air before speaking. “i’ll fix it daddy…promise” you moaned. ony didn’t miss the small movement of your legs. thighs clenching tight together to ease the ache you gained from neglecting your poor pussy. a small smirk adorned his face. “i’ll deal wit her when we get home.” he nodded his head, glancing towards between your legs before continuing. “but right now we worried about that mouth. cmere mama” your face lit up at the thought of what was to come at home, making the wet stain in your underwear begin to grow as you let your man lead your face back towards his lap.
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antxlss · 6 months
Text
but, you’re my boss II
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pairing: anakin skywalker x reader (modern au)
summary: the day comes for your big blind date. you should hate the guy, but you can’t help but let him grow on you.
warnings: none
words: 2.3k
a/n: guys I was so quick with this one. anyways this is giving enchanted by taylor swift vibes to me. let me know how you guys like it! ~ max <3
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part I | series masterlist | my masterlist
You wake up on Monday morning to the sound of your phone going off next to your bed.
You look at the time, it's 7am, it's time to get ready for work.
You pick up your phone and open your texts to see a message from Padmé. She sent it just a minute ago.
Good morning queen, I have the details for your date and I have to tell you the man is hot (but I don't want to give you any expectations). But go get 'em, bitch. Tonight, 7pm, go meet him at Sandalwood Cafe!
You groan and slam your face into your pillow.
Why did I agree to this?
You roll out of bed and begin getting ready for work.
You spend most of the day nervous, your mind racing with doubts about the date and if you'll click with the guy. You start to wonder if you made a mistake agreeing to it, but the doubt is constantly shoved aside by Padmé's positive tone and support.
As soon as work lets out, you head home to get ready for the date. As a last minute touch up, you spray some perfume under your elbows, the type of perfume that Padmé told you her new Tinder match had told her he liked. You check over in the mirror one last time before heading out.
You decide to walk to the small cafe since it is only a few blocks from your apartment.
You arrive and step into to the cute establishment.
You look around for a few seconds before your eyes land on a handsome looking young man sitting in a chair near the doorway. He's a little on the taller side, his dark blond hair and blue eyes making him very charming. As he notices you walk through the door into the cafe, his eyes immediately find yours, and a small smile creeps onto his cheeks.
You smile back as you take in his appearance. He looks nice and well put together, probably a lawyer or a doctor or something like that. Someone you'd see on television.
Your breath got knocked out of you. You could've sworn you looked petrified.
It was your fucking boss.
Why would Padmé do this? She knows how you feel about that conceited asshole.
You paint a polite smile on your face and try your best to contain yourself.
"I am. And you are?" You ask, even though you very much know who he is.
You can't believe he does t even recognize you. You honestly weren't even shocked.
He gets to his feet to meet you, extending his hand out to you. He's much taller than you, and you look up at him. His eyes are locked on to yours and you can't help but get a little lost in them.
He speaks with a very smooth but gentle confidence to the point that you just want to stare at him while he speaks.
"I'm Anakin. Anakin Skywalker. I'm so glad you could make it. Would you like to come sit down?"
You internally groan. If you weren't literally desperate for male interaction, you would've just walked out. Might as well just give it a try.
You follow Anakin as he leads you to the table he was previously occupying.
He pulls out your seat for you and waits for you to sit down before he seats himself across from you.
He smiles and leans forward, putting his elbows on the table as his eyes continue to gaze intently at yours, never breaking the eye contact for more than a few seconds.
He speaks without the gentility he showed when you first met. "Padmé told me what I was getting myself into and I have to say, I still can't believe how beautiful you are in person. I hope you don't mind me saying."
Your heart fluttered at his flattery. Why did he have to be so much of a gentleman. You wanted so badly to hate him. To be fair he's never given you a reason to do so.
"Thank you." You smile. "So, how do you know Padmé?"
He's in complete control of his emotions and shows the same confidence he did while at work. You feel completely powerless as you're unable to resist his charm. You can tell Padmé wasn't kidding, he's absolutely charming.
Still staring intently at your face, he leans forward onto his elbows.
"Oh, she and I matched on Tinder a few days ago. She thought we might hit it off, so she set me up on this date." He speaks like it's the most natural thing in the world.
"Oh, so that bitch gave me her seconds. I see how it is." You laugh. "I'm assuming she wasn't into you, you know, since she set us up?"
He chuckles, completely unfazed by what you said by the insult.
He leans one elbow back on the table and clasps his hands together, still staring intently at your eyes and speaking with that same charm, as if there was no tension between him and your relationship with Padmé.
"No, she says she thinks I'm great! In fact, she thought I was handsome, which was why Padmé sent me your way."
He lets out another small chuckle, still keeping eye contact.
"No offense, but you definitely aren't her type. She goes for the more grungy 'bad boy' type." You giggle.
Once again, Anakin seems unfazed by what you said.
While he's still leaning in on one of his elbows against the table, he still is staring intently at you.
He speaks, still confidently.
"Well... I'm not too sure about her type... she did swipe right on me though, so I guess that counts for something?" He chuckles, still staring at you, not breaking eye contact.
You decided to get risky. What did you have to lose.
"Well you may not be Padmé's type, but you're mine."
Anakin keeps looking at you and you notice that his eyebrows raise. His gaze is still sharp, but now there's a twinkle in his eye as he smiles at you.
You feel butterflies in your stomach and you can't stop smiling.
Anakin leans forward and rests his elbows back on the table.
"Oh?" He smiles, keeping eye contact.
"Mhm." You smile, not breaking the eye contact.
You feel your heart pounding in your chest.
Anakin remains seated for a moment longer.
With a slightly deeper voice than before, Anakin speaks and looks you straight in the eyes without blinking.
"I'd like to take you out." His eyes go back to you smiling. "On another date... that is."
You laugh. "Anakin we've only been talking for like two minutes. We know nothing about each other."
Yeah like the fact that he's your fucking employer. You have to tell him that you work for his company. He's literally your boss. He'll find out eventually either way.
He chuckles, and with a look of confidence on his face he leans forward.
"Maybe we don't know anything about each other in terms of our pasts, but I do know a bit about you." And he stares directly at your eyes.
"From this conversation, I've found out a few things about you. You're a beautiful girl with a great sense of humor. You're confident but not in an arrogant way. And you're not too hard to look at," Anakin laughs a little, smiling and maintaining eye contact.
"Hmm, we'll I guess you know me pretty well." You joke. "But really, let's just talk, get to know each other, and then by the end of the night I'll let you know if I want you to take me out again."
Anakin lets out a soft chuckle and leans back slightly, still looking at you with his charming smile.
"You know what? That seems fair. We just got here."
He chuckles again, still speaking with that same confidence and smooth, gentle tone in his voice.
"The night is still young, and so far you seem awesome."
"So far... Okay, ask me a question, what do you want to know about me?" You ask.
He sits back in his chair, crossing one of his legs over the other at the knee.
He puts both of his elbows on the table and leans forward towards your direction, keeping his attention on you.
He looks at you for a second before speaking, thinking of a good question.
"Where are you from?"
"I'm from Texas, but I moved to New York City to attend Baruch College. I liked it here so much, I decided to stay." You reply.
It's hard for you to even keep eye contact with him. His looks, his confidence, his smooth, gentle voice.
He speaks like he's not distracted at all and fully in the moment, like your beauty did not even throw him off.
"Why'd you choose that college specifically?"
"Really just because it's in the city." You shrug. "What about you, where are you from?"
"Hmph, fair enough."
Anakin chuckles.
"I'm from the Hamptons. Born and raised."
Oh so he's rich, rich.
There's a pause in which he doesn't quite seem to say everything he was thinking. His eyes are still glued to yours, and you can't stop looking at him either.
"What are you studying at that college?"
"Forensic Phycology. I'm working on my masters right now. Most of my school is online." You reply.
Anakin leans back in his chair again, crossing his legs over each other at the knee. He rests his elbows back onto the table again and leans towards you.
"Forensics, that sounds really interesting. Most of your school is online? How's that working for you?"
He still looks at you with that same charming smile and his eyes on your face, not breaking eye contact for longer than a few seconds.
"It's actually pretty good. I thought I wouldn't enjoy it, but it gives me a chance to work while I finish school." You admit.
Anakin chuckles, and looks back at you for a few seconds.
After a moment of silence, Anakin speaks again and leans forward.
"What is it that you do for work?"
Anakin continues looking you dead in the eyes, a twinkle in his eyes as he waits for your response.
Shit.
You have to tell him. You can't lie. Especially since you are surprisingly really liking him.
"I'm a receptionist. At Skywalker Engineering."
You sit and anxiously wait for his response.
Anakin sits back in his seat a little after you tell him.
After a moment he speaks in a soft tone, a bit surprised.
"The receptionist?"
After a second he chuckles.
"I didn't think we had a receptionist. I'll have to talk to HR about that for the next work report."
He continues to chuckle, still looking at you. He seems a little relaxed after hearing that, like it did not bother him in the least.
"We may have to talk to HR about the boss going on a date with his employee." You state smugly. "You really don't recognize me?"
Anakin leans back in his seat, smiling as he responds to your comment. But once your eyes land on him, that twinkle in his eyes returns, and your eye contact becomes almost magnetically drawn to him.
"I recognized you the second I saw your eyes."
A moment of silence.
"You're right though, we will need to talk to HR about that. But for now, this is just between you and me."
He smiles at you.
How could you have ever hated him? You didn't even give him a chance. Now that you've actually talked to him you found out that he doesn't even like his job, he's just carrying on the family business.
The more the night goes on, the more infatuated in him you become.
The night finally comes in. You and Anakin clean up your table and push in your chairs. He walks you out to the street.
Anakin smiles at you as he walks you out to the street.
He extends his arm out and you take it, your fingers brushing against his. His touch is gentle, so soft and soothing, but at the same time the touch is full of passion and desire.
As you walk with him, you look up at him and can't help but smile right back at Anakin.
"I had an amazing time tonight. Thank you for taking me out."
"It was my pleasure." He grinned. "So do you have an answer for my question earlier."
Your cheeks grow red. "Yes Anakin, I'd love to go out with you again."
Anakin's eyes shine with joy and he chuckles, looking at you as he responds.
"You just made my night."
He takes you in his arms and leans in close. Your eyes are both locked on each other. He looks at you intently, and you can see every single line of his facial expression. Anakin speaks in a soft and gentle tone, it's as if you're the only two people in the world.
"Can I have a kiss?"
You stiffen up. You haven't kissed someone in almost a year, let alone your boss. You say exactly what was on your mind.
"But, you're my boss."
Anakin just stares at you for a moment, but his gaze remains intense. Your heart is still fluttering in your chest, and Anakin's gentle look is drawing you in. You want to kiss him. You've never felt this way before.
He speaks with this same soft and gentle voice, still looking at you and maintaining eye contact.
"Yes I am."
He leans forward slightly, still keeping you in his arms.
"But, I don't care."
You let go of all your anxieties and let your body guide you as you lean forward to meet Anakin's lips.
You both lean forward at the same time, and his lips meet yours. It's not a quick peck, but a long and drawn out kiss as Anakin continues to hold you in his arms on the sidewalk. It's so passionate, and your hearts are racing. You don't ever want the kiss to end.
To your dismay, Anakin pulls away. You look him in the eyes.
"Thank you for tonight." You smile. "See you at work?"
And with that you turn and walk home with a blush on your face the whole way there.
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hellsburners · 10 months
Text
test drive nothing
summary: Your date is a fucking asshole so you find two lovely men who are willing to make it up to you. pairing: matt murdock x male reader x peter parker word count: 3.2k  warnings: 18+ warning, alcohol use, some rude guy at a club, threesomes, top!matt, top!peter, bottom!reader, gay sex, semi-public stuff a bit, eiffel towered reader iykwim a/n: sorry for the delay didnt feel good for the past few days, anyway i hope yall like this idk what i was doing with this but if you liked it interractions are very much welcome and appreciated.
masterlist | more matt | more peter
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gif credit for peter & matt
Heat rose up from your toes to your head. Music blasting from speakers left and right, neon streams of strobing light lit the dark room. People dancing around and drinking. It’ll be fine, you thought. It was your first time in this club, a Grindr match invited you here so you could hang. You were scanning the room for him, his pic showed a lean man with blonde hair and blue eyes on a beach in California. 
You here? You messaged him. Well, you’ve been messaging him the same question for the past hour, no response. Your cheeks turned red from the anxiety. You nape, turning stiff and sore. 
“Hey,” an arm caresses yours. It was him, he was wearing a black tank top tucked into cargo pants. “So, you ordered a drink?” You shook your head, he called on the bartender and gave you a drink suggestion. Since you weren’t much of a drinker you went with his choice, vodka martini. 
The two of you talked for a few minutes, catching up on typical first date things. You found out that he was a doctor for MetroGen, he liked hockey, and he has a pet dog. He was now a few inches from you, his breath reeking of alcohol, his light blue eyes piercing yours. He tried to inch closer to you, to kiss you. Feeling like he was being too fast you pulled back. 
“Maybe we should go dance?” you asked, standing up from the bar stool. He reluctantly agrees. You gesture to the dance floor. The two of you walk towards the building crowd. You were bumping onto bodies left and right. You were holding your drink, trying not to spill it. A man with brown hair bumps into you, you almost spilled the drinks from the tight space. He told you he was fine and left smiling. You thought of his face, it felt familiar.
“Hey you coming?” your date says, starting to dance. You joined him, slowly feeling into the fast beat of the music. He places an arm at your lower back. Your hands to his shoulders. Your hips moving left and right. He stares at different men passing you by, his gaze on them rather than you. 
You see a guy wink at him and he winks back. You thought he was just friendly, he seemed to be the type. He knew people in the club and he’d greet them left and right. You felt isolated. You look around, people dancing and laughing, it suffocates you. Your hands started to jitter around the glass, you almost felt it slip.
“I think I’m gonna go—” you gestured for the restroom. He grabs your wrist and pulls you back. His arm wrapped tightly across your back. His grip was firm, he reeked so bad of alcohol you hadn't noticed he was actually so drunk from earlier. “Please, let me go. You’re making me uncomfortable.” 
He starts to initiate a kiss. You push him away, he doesn’t budge.
“Come on now babe, we haven’t had much fun yet,” he whispers to your ear, you cringe from his disgusting tone. A hand pulls his arm away. The weight lifted off of you. 
“He said let go, man,” someone says, it was the brunette from earlier. Your date shrieks from the man’s grip. You see his fingers almost crush his wrist. His brown eyes were stern, his brows furrowed. 
“Piss off! That’s my date,” he tries to reach for you. The brunette pushes you aside gently, blocking you away from him. Your date pushes the brunette, taunting him. He tries to take a punch toward the man protecting you, he blocks it. The guy tried to lunge further, to take the brunette by the collar and slam him. You see the brunette clutch his fists, his nails burying in his palms. Too bad for your date the bouncer came in and ushered him out. He went out screaming and cursing. 
“You okay?” the brunette said. He gestured for you to go back to the bar and grab some water. 
“Yeah, fucking prick,” you said soothing your wrist before taking a sip of ice cold water. The shock releases your skin of all the tension. “Knew that app was a hell hole.”
“Met him from Grindr, huh?” he asked, you nodded reluctantly. Now that you were far from the strobe lights and all the different colors you could see his face clearly. You had seen his face before, not from earlier, but from somewhere years ago. Your face contorted to a confused look. 
“Have we met before?” you asked,he smiles.
“Must be the glasses, ditched them years ago.” He points two fingers to his eyes. 
“Oh my god from high school! I know your name I swear,” you tried to search your brain for a name, or the first letter at least. 
“I bet you a million dollars you won’t remember my name, not really a popular guy in high school,” he chuckles. He takes a sip of coke, his arm resting on the bar counter. You close your eyes trying to search for the name.
“Peter Parker!” you shouted. “Venmo me a million dollars right now."
“Well give me your number so I can send it,” he takes out his phone. You smiled, you took his phone and typed the ten digits. “I’ll send it to ‘ya when I win the lottery.” The two of you laugh.
“Wanna dance?” you asked. 
“You sure?” he said, looking confused. 
“Yeah, can’t let one man ruin my night right?” you started backing up towards the dance floor. He was hesitant at frist, following you he takes your shoulder to guide him.
The two of you started to dance. The lights flood your eyes with different colors. You asked if you could put your hands on him, he nodded. You rest your hands on his shoulders. He asked the same question, you nodded as well. You guided his arms around your waist. He was gentle about it. The pressure was so light it felt like nothing. 
You placed a hand on his handsome face, pushing his hair aside. “Do you want to kiss me? I think you wanna kiss me?” he whispered.
“You want to bet another million dollars on that?” you laughed. 
Your lips meet, his soft lips warm on yours. He was everything the man earlier was not. Each step he asked for your consent. His hands were light on your body. His kiss was slow and gentle. He was simply a nice guy. 
He told you that he forgot to mention he was actually meeting with a friend. You got shy thinking he was on a date and you now ruined it but he assured you it was just a friend. A few minutes of chatting led to the two of you laughing at each other’s jokes. It was around midnight already. 
Peter called for someone behind you, you turned to see who it was and it was a man a bit older than him. He wore a black suit and a white shirt and he wore these ruby colored glasses. He was an attractive man, his mouth smirked as he waved at Peter. 
“Hey, this is my friend Matt,” Peter says to your ear, the music almost making it inaudible. Matt smiles as Peter introduces you to him. 
“Sorry for being late, work stuff,” you noticed his eyes behind the glasses focused above your head, never going your way. He’s blind, Peter mouths at you. Oh. Peter told you two to get to know each other as he gets more drinks. 
“You from Midtown?” you asked. 
“Hell’s Kitchen actually, I’m a lawyer,” he says. You told him about how you met Peter in high school. 
“Oh, hence the corporate get-up, I dig it” you said, he laughs, his cheeks showing off his dimples. 
Peter came back with three shot glasses. He hands you and Matt one. He offers a toast and the three of you bring your glasses to a clink. You down the shot, the liquid burning your throats. And the three of you took another shot, and another, and another.
You tap Matt’s shoulder gently. “Let’s dance some,” you say to him.
“Oh no, I don’t dance,” he puts the shot glass down. Waving his hands with hesitation.
“That’s not true, I saw you once!” Peter said, Matt pressed his palm on his mouth and made a shushing sound. The three of you were laughing hysterically. 
“Oh come on do it for me,” you dragged the words. He loosens his tie and joins two of you. 
Peter’s arm was around your shoulder as the two of you danced to the beat, your hips swaying. You held onto the hem of Matt’s sleeve pulling him in. He awkwardly tries to dance with the two of you. It was cute, you thought. Peter was now behind you, your back pressed to his chest. Matt playfully guided your hands to his shoulders, moving his body left and right. It was out of beat but it was the thought that counts. 
Maybe it was alcohol, or the moment, or the fact that there were two very attractive men dancing with you, but you started to feel something. Like heat rising to your cheeks in a good way, your knees feeling weak. Peter placed a kiss on your nape. You ushered yourselves closer to Matt. Peter’s hand went to Matt’s waist pulling him into you. 
Matt placed his arms in your waist, light but stern. You wrapped your arms around his neck. You could smell him, like sandalwood and musk. “You could ask him if you want to. I won’t mind,” Peter said, as if being able to read your mind.
“Can I kiss you?” you asked Matt. Your mind completely focused on the two men with you. Matt giggles and places a kiss on your lips. Peter’s kiss was soft, Matt’s was more heated, like his thick lips were sucking you in. 
“So you two do this a lot?” You pointed at Matt and Peter. 
“Only if the guy is cute.” Peter said. 
“But the two of you?” you chuckled. Peter placed his hands on Matt’s cheek, whispering something in his ears. Matt nods and Peter places a kiss on Matt’s lips. 
“That wasn’t too bad. Can’t believe we haven’t done that before Matt," he pats his back.
“Maybe we can take this party to my place?” Matt said. You looked at Peter, who was also looking at you. You both tell Matt yes. “Let me go get a cab.” 
Now outside, Matt was hailing for a cab. The streets were cold. Peter wraps his arms around you. Body heat, he says. You go on your tiptoes to kiss him again. More feverish this time. You could feel his hardness press on your waist. “Sorry, I couldn't wait, this is so hot.”
Matt arrives, his brows raised in disbelief. A cab waiting for the three of you. Matt tugs on Peter’s collar and shoves him to the front seat. “You sit there and watch.”
You and Matt continue to make out in the back seat. His shirt was now untucked from his waist. His tie was long gone and his shirt opened a bit. He places soft wet kisses to your neck making you moan. The two of you could care less about what the cab driver thought. 
Peter looks at the two of you from the rearview mirror, the erection in his pants stirring. He palms the damn thing. He really could not wait. 
Matt’s hands came to your thigh, your hands peeking through the hem of his shirt, you could feel his bare skin, all warm and hard. The car slowed, you’ve arrived at Matt’s apartment. Peter pays, you and Matt hurrying to the front door. “Hey wait up!” Peter yelled. 
While Matt was fumbling to get his keys Peter pulled you to him. “I’m starting to get jealous here,” he whispers. 
“I want you both, so fucking bad.”
“Then you’ll have us,” he cups your face and kisses you again, his tongue meeting yours. His hand comes to your lower back, playing with the hem of your pants. His fingers slowly going underneath the fabric.
The door unlocks. “Door’s open, you two,” he takes his suit jacket off. 
The three of you were undressing in Matt’s living room, stumbling from getting rid of tight shirts and long pants. You stare at their bodies both scarred, Peter was lean but still muscular, while Matt was more bulky. Their erections form tents in their boxers. 
Peter sat down on the sofa, gesturing for you to sit on him. Matt sits next to him. God they were a sight. You ride Peter’s thigh. Your hands palming his torso. Peter touches your sex, you were also so hard. You whisper to Peter that you’d like to suck him off. He curses and nods.
You go down on your knees, pulling his boxers with you. His long cock springs up, the head a bright red. He points the tip to your lips, you give it kitten licks, the sensitive head throbbed from the motion. 
Matt started to palm his boxers as you sucked Peter off. Your hand wanders to his hairy thighs. Matt releases his cock, it was shorter than Peter’s but still pretty big, what Peter lacked in girth Matt showed off more. You started to stroke his cock, your mouth still on Peter’s. The two men moaned, their eyes closed and their heads held back. 
“Fuck you’re so good,” Peter coos. He takes you to sit on the couch, he goes down on his knees to pleasure you. With his mouth to your cock, Matt went on to leave kisses to your neck, his hand on Peter’s head, pushing him deeper. You moaned so much from it. Your hands go to Matt’s cock, now leaking with precum. 
“I want to fuck you,” Peter said. You asked where the bedroom was and Matt led the two of you to his queen sized bed. Matt sat on the bed, his back to the headboard, you crawled to him and took him in your mouth, the girth filling your warm mouth. Peter massages your ass from the back. Matt jerked his hips making you choke a little, you moaned, your throat vibrating on Matt’s cock. “Moan louder pretty, Matt likes it a lot.”
Peter takes your underwear off. He parted your ass and began to lick in your hole. You moaned on Matt’s cock, he shuddered from the sudden wave of pleasure; he brushed his hand through your hair. “My god sweetheart you’re too good at this.”
You felt Peter’s shaft tapping against your whole. “Condoms?” he asked. Matt gestured for the bedside table. Peter went on to get them. You released Matt’s cock to look for him but he pulled you into a kiss. 
“Peter’s gonna go first, is that okay?” Matt asked in between kisses. You nodded. Peter returned with condoms and a small bottle of lube. He places the condom on his cock, stroking it after with lube. 
“‘You ready?” you nod. Peter slowly presses the tip to your whole, the tight muscle contracts around the head making it tighter.
“Relax for me baby,” Peter coos, rubbing his hands on your back. He fully sheathed himself in you. You felt so full and so good. Peter fucking you while your mouth was on Matt’s cock, it drove you crazy. Peter pulled you to his chest, one hand to your cock while the other teasing your nipples. Matt went to your cock and placed small licks to your shaft, precum dripping from your tip. Matt took you in, your cock hitting the back of his throat as Peter pounded you. Matt choked but kept going. 
“You sound so good taking Peter,” Matt said, his lips swollen red. Your hands brushed through his hair. Peter fucked you so sensually any trace of stinging alleviated from your body. There was fluidity to the way he moved, like a dancer or a gymnast, all steady movement but still so graceful. 
“Fuck, I’m so close,” Peter groaned. 
You felt so close too. Your rhythm became erratic, more lazy and inert. He let out a few more thrusts, emptying inside you. You came on Matt’s lips. Your chest heaving, Peter gave you a kiss on your temple, whispering praises. 
Matt wiped his lips, licking your cum and sucking on his fingers. “My turn,” Matt guided your back to the bed. He took your legs and placed them on both sides of his hips. His cock leaking with pre, he takes the condom packet and places a rubber on him as well, lubing it after. 
You still felt weak from Peter, who was now cradling you in between his legs, your back to his. He is laying down with his back to the headboard resting for a bit. Matt slowly pressed himself into your hole, you groaned. Peter whispered words of comfort to your ears, brushing his hands through your hair as Matt moaned to the feeling of your hole around his cock. 
Matt peppered you with kisses. His hands snaked around your body feeling every bit of skin, his fingertips tracing every crevice and every groove, every bit of fat and muscle. He looked so good, hips thrusting while his dark hair stuck to his forehead drenched in sweat. His mouth agape as he cursed, calling for God's name. 
Peter’s hand went to your cock, now soft and a bit sore. He traced his fingertips on the wet slit, the sensitive tip made you writhe from the sensation. A few moments later you began to harden again. Peter spat on his palm and stroked your cock after. Your eyes closed from all the pleasure. 
You felt your spirit lift from your body. These two men were bringing pleasures to your body you hadn’t known existed. You felt as if your body were ascending to heaven for a second there. 
Matt bent down to give you a fevered kiss. Peter squeezed himself to the kiss. The three of you sharing your tongues and lips. Matt’s stubble pricked your cheeks but it didn’t matter. You felt yourself near another orgasm. You were now a sobbing mess between these two. Matt fucked you harder, you felt his orgasm nearing as well. 
“I’m gonna cum,” you cried. Matt said he was close too, whining your name. Peter pumped your cock until your eyes closed from the pleasure, your hands gripping onto the sheets, your toes curled. Matt’s erratic rhythm came to a stop as he emptied his cum in the condom. Leaving you both a moaning mess. 
The three of you shared one last kiss before crashing onto the bed. Matt went to the bathroom to get you a wet towel. Peter peppered your temples with kisses, whispering praises. Matt came back with the towel and helped you and Peter clean up, he took extra good care with cleaning your behind. 
After that, the three of you laid naked on Matt’s bed, drenched in sweat. You felt yourself drift off to the night. Your head to Matt’s chest and Peter’s arms wrapped around you. 
You wake up to the sound of frying and the smell of cooked bacon. You found yourself tucked in Matt’s blanket, with your boxers on and Matt’s shirt on you. You stood up, your back aching, and went to Matt’s small kitchen. You found the two boys cooking breakfast. It was Matt who noticed you first. 
“Hungry?” he asked, finishing off frying eggs. Peter noticed who Matt was talking to and smiled. He walked towards you to give you a kiss on the forehead, his hands on a plate of bacon and some toast. 
You smirked, very. 
interactions are greatly appreciated btw if u liked this fic and want more send me a prompt and i'd gladly make something from it :>
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superhaught · 9 days
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Guard Dog
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Pairing: Leighton Murray x Reader
Warning(s): None!
Word Count: 1000, Part 1/?
Just a little Leighton fic based on this tiktok.
You stirred your drink lazily and refreshed the app one more time just for good measure. 
No new messages. 
You turned your phone off and sighed then finished off your drink in one gulp. The bartender swung by and cleared your empty glass and offered you another and you shook your head, saying, “just water, please,” hoping to sober up before heading home and putting this failure of a Friday night behind you. 
A pretty blonde girl walked up to the empty barstool beside you and barked out her order to the bartender while preemptively handing him her ID, then she loosely directed her next words to you, “excuse me, is this seat taken?”
“Not anymore, go ahead.”
She raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything in response as she sat in the stool and began rummaging through her tiny purse, pulling out a compact and touching up her face of makeup.
“Did you have a date or something?” The blonde asked, not turning to look at you. 
“I don’t know if it was a date,” you replied, “but someone was supposed to meet me. I’ve been waiting for over an hour.”
She closed her compact and returned it to her bag as the bartender was sliding a cocktail across the counter to her. 
“And they haven’t messaged you, I assume?”
“Nope.” You responded. 
“Asshole.”
You shrugged, “I wasn’t that excited about it anyways.” 
The blonde nodded and sipped from her drink with an elegance that was both admirable and off-putting. You envisioned her taking family vacations to Napa, feeling comfortable on yachts, purchasing a new pair of red-bottoms every season. 
The woman’s attention had been captured by her own phone, and you started to long for your bed. 
You were waiting to flag down the bartender and get your bill when a random guy approached you, carrying two beers. You rolled your eyes without him seeing.
“Hey girl, you are looking fine, let me enjoy a beer witchu.” 
You began, “oh, I was actually just-”
The blonde woman interjected, “excuse me, do you like, know this man?”
The dude groaned and slouched, “aw, come on we were just talking!”
She held up an index finger in front of him, “silence, mouth-breather, I wasn’t speaking to you yet,” then she looked at you expectantly, awaiting your answer. 
You shook your head, “no, I don’t.”
“Do you want to know him?”
“Not really.”
She nodded and turned to the offending guy, “she doesn’t want to talk to you. Goodbye.”
“What the fuck? I was just trying to be nice!”
“Well, you’re not being nice, you're being a creep and she doesn’t want to talk to you anymore.”
“Fucking bitch,” the man scoffed at blonde. 
She crossed her arms in front of her chest and sat up a little taller, “yep. Now remove yourself from the premises before I have security do it for you.”
The man raised his hands in surrender and backed away slowly, glaring at your rescuer, before finally turning and storming out of the bar with two of his buddies right behind him.
You exhaled, “Jesus… thank you for that.”
She flipped her hair over her shoulder, “oh my god, of course. Don’t even mention it.”
The bartender returned and passed your receipt to you but the woman grabbed the slip of paper between manicured fingers and spoke to the bartender, “no, please put her bill on my tab. Leighton Murray. Thank you.”
“Oh you don’t have to do that.” 
“I know but I’m going to, you’ve had a shitty night.”
“It’s really not necessary-”
“Don’t worry about it, okay? It’s nothing.” The blonde was putting her foot down and you felt completely disarmed by her. She clicked on her phone, “you were leaving, right? I’m calling you and Uber and I’ll walk you out, I’m not having you leave by yourself. He seemed like the type to wait in the parking lot.”
“You’re… that’s really above and beyond, I can’t accept-”
“I insist. Now, where are you heading?”
You considered denying her. You considered saying, thank you, but no thank you. 
“Essex College.” 
She raised an eyebrow again, “are you a student?”
You nodded, “I am, yeah. Junior.”
She smiled, “oh, wow! I’m a senior at Essex. I can’t believe I don’t know you. Come on, let’s just head back to campus together. I’m Leighton.”
You returned her smile and introduced yourself. She echoed your name back and then took hold of your hand, you thought she was just going to shake it but instead she stood up and gently led you out of the bar. 
You glanced around the parking lot and didn’t see the group of guys, “seems all clear…”
“You can never be too careful,” she answered with a shrug, “do you want me to leave you be?”
You couldn’t help but look her up and down. She was stunning. Taller than you in heels, and likely without them, too. She was still holding your hand. Her skin was soft and you could smell her perfume. She used her free hand to run her fingers through her hair, pushing it back, and you were done for. 
You looked at her lips and unknowingly bit down on your own, “No. I don’t want that…”
She smirked. A black car pulled up beside you and Leighton gestured for you to get in ahead of her. 
You squeezed her hand and then opened the car door. She lightly touched your lower back as you got into the car and it made you shudder. 
You quietly looked out the window as the car took you back to your college campus. You found yourself thinking about how it wasn’t fair for women like Leighton to exist because your hands were shaking and she hadn’t even done anything. You balled your hands into fists and sighed, not meaning to make a noise when you did.
“Is everything okay?” Leighton asked. 
You were shocked out of your thoughts, “Yes! Well, no… I mean, yes, everything is fine, it’s just…”
“Just…?”
You swallowed the lump in your throat as you met the blonde’s eyes, “I don’t want my night to end just yet.”
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lemmetreatya · 1 year
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rent-a-boyfriend!zeke whos the absolute fucking worst when it comes to doing his job. not like he does his job badly — in fact, he does his job too well sometimes! the issue is that hes lovely with everyone else but a pain to you and you alone.
“come on, you should know this by now. your mother wouldn’t like this selection of flowers. last time she said the colour didn’t suit her and that the smell was too overpowering for her nose.”
you don’t question how he was able to put all of your family members names to faces on the first try, remember past childhood pets he needs to be aware of, neighbours and local townsmen that were significant in your life, because rent-a-boyfriend!zeke only does this to get under your skin.
“you’ve fucked him, haven’t you?”
rent-a-boyfriend!zeke asks about reiner from next door who decided to randomly drop by, seems overtly friendly with your mother and paid you googly eyes every five minutes — the tall, blonde computer analyst that you definitely have toyed with in the past.
“and what’s it to you?” you’d mumble as you took the 5th consecutive drag of rent-a-boyfriend!zeke’s cigarette.
the man would only shrug as he leaned against the outside side wall of your family home.
“nothing.” rent-a-boyfriend!zeke plucks his cigarette from your mouth. “just noticing you have a type.”
and despite you wanting to disagree with him, you find yourself acknowledging the observation as rent-a-boyfriend!zeke fucks you into the too-small mattress of your adolescent bed, away from the familial gathering of everyone downstairs but not too loud for them to hear.
the horny bastard wouldn’t even undress the two of you. in a weirdly possessive way, rent-a-boyfriend!zeke was eager to continuously fuck your asshole in retaliation to his competition being a floorboard beneath them.
“f-f-fa-fuck!”
as rent-a-boyfriend!zeke stretches your hole around his cock, your face was buried deep into the plush of the pillow. with all the complaining, you know rent-a-boyfriend!zeke couldn’t hear you but your whines were seeping through the pillow
“stop being annoying. just take my dick as is.”
and you have to comply because rent-a-boyfriend!zeke isn’t letting up or letting you run anywhere — he always knew he’s going to be trouble as soon as your mother told you that rent-a-boyfriend!zeke is a great man to have around.
rent-a-boyfriend!zeke would end up cumming bucket loads of cum inside of you, hollowing hole becoming full as the man choked on his own words in a grumble and moan.
as the both of you come back downstairs, everyone gives you suspicious glares but no one says anything — like you care.
if anything, rent-a-boyfriend!zeke knows he’s established his position as he smugly smiles at a worried looking reiner, his hands protectively around your waist.
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eufezco · 2 years
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DADS — Billy Hargrove, Eddie Munson, Jonathan Byers, Steve Harrington x fem!reader
A/N — Just some headcanons of them as dads. I'm going through a writer's block and this is the only thing I've been able to finish 🥹 I'll try to post something better tomorrow english isn't my first language
BILLY HARGROVE
Billy would go so soft for a baby girl. He would learn how to tie her hair into ponytails, braids, buns and actually be good at it. She would have his dark blonde hair with some curls too, her eyes intensively blue like his dad and a beautiful smile like his. The rest of her little face would be just like yours. Your nose, your lips, your cheeks. It was the perfect combination of you two. Billy would drive her to kindergarten and school every day, sending deathly glances to any boy who gets suspiciously close to her.
Really attentive during your pregnancy and always tries to hide how soft he gets when he sees you carrying his child. Billy also gives the best back rubs ever, his hands are big and strong, his fingers skilled as nobody's. He's always up to help you relieve some stress, you sitting in between his legs and sighing at how his hans worked on your back.
Billy's dad was an asshole and he needed to ask someone for help so he would end up going to Max's mother, the woman really glad that he comes to her before making the same mistakes as his dad. She'd teach him how to cook some basic dishes, what you could and couldn't eat, what he needed to bring to the hospital by the time you gave birth, and how to make you feel better like holding your belly from behind, helping you to shower, foot massages...
Hate to say this but he hates when the baby cries at night and would probably let you go to take care of her every single time. He would make it up for you in the morning tho, letting you sleep more time and him taking care of the baby.
Billy would never admit it but he secretly loves when Max interacts with the baby. He would act all stubborn when Max and you play with the baby, you smiling when Max softly puts her headphones on the baby's ears and play some soft music. The baby humming and trying to grab Max's walkman. Billy would watch the scene from the distance with butterflies in his stomach.
Billy would love wrapping the baby with his leather jacket like a burrito. The baby snuggling and enjoying his dad's cologne and Billy just rocking her between his arms.
He would quit smoking or at least he'd never do it around the baby. He stopped when you got pregnant, and it was pretty hard for him at first. Billy would go on night walks alone just so he could smoke but when you started to feel pain, puking, and basically needing him by your side, Billy forgot about smoking.
His favorite part of parenthood is admiring how pretty his baby girl is. She'd have these deep blue eyes just like him but she'd have the same features as you, making Billy love her even more if possible. Sometimes he would just lay on the bed with her, bumping her nose, squeezing her cheeks, or tickling her belly. The baby trying to suck on his dad's fingers every time they got close to her face, trying to grab them with her tiny little hands, and Billy just tickling her palm, making her giggle.
EDDIE MUNSON
Oh, he would rock with a little girl with the same deep brown eyes as him and with his messy curly hair too. You adoring how your daughter looks just like his dad and thinking of how she would probably inherit Eddie's personality and hobbies too (not the drug dealing, of course) like playing guitar and playing D&D.
Eddie would buy her every metal band t-shirt he could find, even if she was still a baby and won't understand nor enjoy that type of music. If there wasn't her size, he'd just use one of his on her. Eddie's shirt being bigger than the toddler and making her look like a ghost walking around the house.
Of course, Eddie stopped smoking before the baby was born, when he heard you coughing one time. Also stopped drug dealing a long time ago. He probably kept doing it after you two moved in together so he could maintain you two and not only live with your salary. But he'd find a proper job and he'd love it. He’d work at a music store, surrounded by tapes and vinyls of his favorite artists and recommending customers the best guitar for them. Nevertheless, his favorite part of the work was getting home to his baby girl waiting for him and clumsily walking to him just for Eddie to pick her up in his arms and devour her with kisses.
He's a fun dad, he's always up to play or spend time with his daughter even if he is busy doing something else, like practicing with Corroded Coffin. Eddie would stop the rehearsal immediately and the boys wouldn't care less because they also loved spending time with the little girl. But your daughter only likes one of Eddie's friends, and that is Dustin. He is always super thorough with her, tickling her belly when she was a baby and making the little her softly kick her feet and move her small arms full of joy. Dustin would also give to her all of his toys from when he was younger, her loving every action figure and every dinosaur. He's your trusted babysitter when Eddie wants to take you on a date.
Eddie would buy her her own guitar. When she was a toddler, he got a toy guitar for her so she could familiarise with the instrument, the baby just pinching the strings without any sense. When she started growing up, Eddie go t her a real one and he'd teach her some basics so she could decide if she liked it. Also, he'd sit your daughter on his lips and play piano, the two-year-old girl hypnotized by the melody her dad was playing, even though her favorite part was when Eddie let her smack the keys with her tiny hands.
Sometimes his sleep was so deep he wouldn't hear her crying at night and he'd feel guilty in the morning for you having to wake up, you assuring him by kissing his cheeks that you didn't mind. But other times Eddie would wake up even before she could start crying, it was like a sixth sense.
The baby loves playing with Eddie's long hair, sometimes pulling it hard enough to make his dad whine. Her curls would be crazy, he learned how to control them in two ponytails so they wouldn't get on her face. When she was a baby and couldn't complain about her hair, Eddie loved trying different hairstyles on her, using water to create a perfect mohican on her that got your mouth open once you got home from work "She's a rockstar." Eddie would allege.
JONATHAN BYERS
I see Jonathan with a baby boy. He's got some experience being a father figure to Will so he knows how to handle a little boy. If it's a girl, he'd have heart eyes all the time. I mean, he had El but she was already a teenager when she moved with them to California, so a little girl would be a dream for him.
He panics all the time during your pregnancy, thinking he's gonna hurt you or that he's gonna mess it up at any time. The truth is that he's super careful with you and it was practically impossible for him to hurt you, even unintentionally. Jonathan would insist on sleeping in the couch, alleging that it is for you to have more space but he's just scared of hurting your belly or you not sleeping well because of him. You'd wake up in the middle of the night and go to the living room, shaking Jonathan carefully and telling him that you couldn't sleep without him.
Jonathan relies on Joyce a lot, he'd even take notes of every advice his mom gives him, and he's got so many questions because he wants not only to be the best father but the best partner for you too. His dad was an asshole so he knew specially what he didn't have to do and what he would've liked his own dad to do, so he just needed to know what he could do for you.
You'd basically moved in with the Byers house during your pregnancy, all of them being super supportive and helping you both through your pregnancy. El and Will being the best entertainment when Jonathan was working, Hopper cooking the most delicious food you've ever tried and going to the grocery store when you were having cravings, and Joyce buying a bigger bed to Jonathan's room so you could sleep together.
The baby would be Jonathan's new favorite thing to photograph. He didn't like polaroid cameras until you got pregnant. Taking pics of you sleeping, of your and his hand on your belly... He would always have a camera around to photograph his child: playing in the park, on the first kindergarten/school day, when you dressed him up as a pumpkin during the first Halloween, and with his tiny and round face stained with cake on his birthday... Jonathan would be always taking pictures of you and the baby, keeping the polaroids in his wallet, in the glove compartment of his car, and even stuck on the wall of his place of work.
He's the one waking up in the middle of the night when the baby cries. Whispering to you to go back to sleep and kissing your forehead. Stumbling on his feet, trying to get to the baby's room as fast as he could, not even thinking of letting you handle the situation. Once the baby stopped crying, he would take him to your bed, lying him in between you two and Jonathan with one of his hands always having some type of contact with the baby to know that he's fine.
His favorite part is putting the baby to sleep. He's a pretty calm guy so it's quite easy for him to transmit that calmness to his son, the baby humming and squirming in his dad's arms at how comfortable he was and probably would start crying the moment Jonathan puts him down on his crib. He'd also help you to sleep later, having your head resting on his lap and playing with your hair until you fall asleep.
He's always telling you that you are the best mom or that you are doing so good with the kid, kissing your cheeks and giving you the best heartwarming compliments, basically making you feel so loved. Joyce told him that some new mothers sometimes felt like they weren't doing good enough for their children, so he's always making sure that you know how well you are doing and how happy and healthy your baby looks thanks to you.
STEVE HARRINGTON
Best dad ever. He would only have eyes for you and your daughter, Steve literally lives for both of you. Probably he wouldn't wait until your girl is one-year-old to start talking about having another child.
The happiest man alive when he you told him that you were pregnant. He'd kiss and talk to your belly all the time, resting his hand there, applying lotion to your stretch marks, and always making sure that you're feeling comfortable. It was like your daughter could feel when Steve was around because she'd start kicking you like crazy. "We can't wait to see you, baby.","I love you too baby, but you need to let mommy sleep."
Your baby was so loved even before she was born. And so were you during your pregnancy. Steve was by your side every minute of it. He'd cook you the most delicious meals and the sweetest cakes to help your cravings. Steve would make sure that you were drinking enough water, he'd help you to shower, and make you feel beautiful. Hugging you tightly against him, massaging every aching part of your body, and basically not letting you get up from the couch unless you needed to use the bathroom.
Steve would fall asleep with the baby between his arms all the time. Him sitting on the rocking chair next to the baby's crib falling asleep at the same time as your daughter and forgetting to put her in the crib, you going to the room to know why Steve was taking so long just to find that cute scene. Also, him sitting on the couch after work with the little girl peacefully napping on his chest, his arms wrapped around her so she didn't fall. When she was old enough to have a proper bed, he'd lay down with her and hug her against him, tell her a story and she would be sleeping in less than ten minutes. The little girl sighing in her sleep thanks to how comfortable her dad was.
Steve is always so warm, the baby loves being between his arms. When she was a toddler, she would cry her lungs out until Steve picked her up and peppered her small face with kisses while hugging her. At nights, she would sneak into your room and lay between you and Steve, or by your side so you could hug her and Steve could hug you both.
Steve's favorite part of coming home from work is finding his daughter waiting for him to play with her, you'd tell him that he needed to rest, but there's no way he's going to sleep instead of playing with her, he wouldn't care about if he's exhausted. He'd also love when you and her would fall asleep waiting for him. He'd give each of you a kiss and get into bed too.
He loves movie nights with you and her. Steve would rent movies for her all the time. He knows her favorites and he could watch them with her for the entire day, he'd find himself after mumbling the words of the Disney songs. When she was a toddler, Steve would fall asleep during the movie and when you'd shake his shoulders softly to wake him up, he'd say that 'there's no strong plot'. You'd smile at him. 'Of course not baby, it's a movie for children.'
Steve would sit the baby on his lap and try her to say 'daddy'. He could be there for hours, smiling at his daughter when she would try to mumble something similar to what her dad was saying, waving her hands happily and letting her head fall into Steve's chest when she was tired of trying. He'd kiss the top of her head and let her rest before keep trying. "Baby, I need to feed her-" Steve shushed you, and you raised your eyebrows. "She almost got it..." Both of you looked at the baby babbling until she got to say clearly the word 'daddy'. "Yes, yes, yes! That's my girl, well done!" Steve kissed all her little face, making her giggle.
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gh0stsp1d3r · 3 months
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𝒮𝓌𝒶𝓃
-coryo with a dancer! Reader cause why not. Might make this a series. Love at first sight type trope
𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
Part 2, part 3
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Coriolanus Snow's heart belonged to you the second he laid his eyes on you. The dancer girl he's been told he had to mentor.
Everyone in district 12 knew you, the girl who danced before she walked, some liked to call you. Though you were mostly known as swan. The white frilly dress you usually wore was the main reason, the way you danced so gracefully.
You, like everyone else in the districts, were poor. You had no family, no one to go home to. But still, you were happy. You served as a sign of hope, of love and care to everyone who could see you dance.
Your heart sunk as your name was called, people murmured as they turned to you. You took a deep breath before walking up, ignoring the stares and the whispers.
You stood up to the stage, looking directly into the cameras with a glare. You detested the games, they were inhumane and terrible.
“The “runt girl” from district 12. She belongs to Coriolanus Snow.”
That’s the moment that the entirety of the capital knew Coriolanus snow would have his hands full with this girl.
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The train came to a slow stop, you were helped out by Jessup, the man from your district who you’ve gotten to know.
You both had turned around when a blonde haired boy came up. He was gorgeous, he stood in front of you and held out a white rose.
“Welcome to the capital.”
You looked at the rose, slowly taking it and admiring it.
“You look like you shouldn’t be here.” You remarked, a small smile on your face as your fingers pulled off a petal or two.
“Well, I shouldn’t. But I’m your mentor.” He was interested in you.
“A rebel, huh?” You joked. “What is a mentor supposed to do, exactly?” You asked curiously.
“To take care of their tribute.”
“What’s your name..?” You asked him.
“Coriolanus Snow.”
“Y/n L/n. But most people in 12 know me as swan.”
He was about to ask you something when he was cut off by a scream.
“No!” Some girl shouted as she was thrown out, you looked up and frowned as the peacekeepers grabbed her and forced her to stand up.
“Assholes.” You mumbled when they walked past you, looking them up and down. Some others came from behind and told you guys to move along.
He had followed them into the truck, once the peacekeepers were distracted, running into it. You watched him with a furrowed brow, he looked back and saw all the tributes looking at him.
What an odd man, you thought.
“Hi.” He said to them.
“What’s the matter pretty boy? You in the wrong cage?”
“No. This cage is delightful.”
“Get him reaper.” One said.
“I will kill you right now.” He pinned him to the wall of the truck.
“He’ll do it too. He killed a peacekeeper back in 11.” One girl said.
“I say we all kill him.”
“Do you guys have family back home? Friends? They’ll kill everyone you know if you kill him. Probably not the best idea.” You shrugged, not looking up at them and still just messing with the rose.
“And he’s my mentor, I would rather you not kill him.”
“How come you get a mender?”
“Mentor. You each get one.” He corrected.
“And we’re all just supposed to believe you?”
“I’m just.. here to help you.”
“Why does uh.. dancer girl here get special treatment? Why aren’t our menders here?”
You looked up from the rose now, looking at the girl in your face. You then looked over to the blonde boy, he was looking back at you. You shrugged, “Just not inspired, I guess.”
He sent you a small smirk, and the truck started to beep. Everyone started falling, and the blonde boy quickly grabbed you, holding you. You both had fallen down together, and looked out.
You were both inside some cage, there was a crowd of people outside, looking as if you were all animals.
“It’s terrible.” You mumbled out, he looked at you now, curiosity in his eyes.
“What do you mean?”
“Everything. Why do we have to pay the price for something we had no part in? It’s like we’re fuckin’ animals.” You turned to him now.
He didn’t say anything, instead swallowing the lump in his throat and looking at the crowd. You did as well.
He liked that you were fierce. You weren't afraid to speak your mind, or your truth. It made him all the more enamored with you.
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A performer forced to fight. That’s all you were. He knew it, of course he did. He was your only shot of winning, of surviving. You slowly learned to trust him and began to do what he had asked of you.
He asked you to dance once you got up on that stage, and he was right. The donations came pouring in, the people loved you, and now it wasn't people only from the districts, it was people from the capitol.
He watched with a small smile on his face as you leaped across the stage, you seemed at peace when you danced. It was graceful, and elegant even with the now worn-out dress.
You truly were just a little swan, his swan to protect and keep.
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l13 · 1 year
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♡simon 'ghost' riley♡
idiots in love, but also a set-up for a future smut with my babygirl ghost
cw: female!reader, ghost has a lot of thoughts about hurting soap but he doesn't mean it!! i think.. IT'S JUST FLUFFY FLUFF, some descriptive sexual thoughts.
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It was Ghost’s birthday, not that he told you himself, of course. You found out on your own. So, when you gave him a poorly wrapped box, he made a mental note to punch Soap later for not keeping his mouth shut. “What’s this?” he asked but took the box anyway, inspecting the wrinkly wrapping paper (knowing damn well this took you more than one try to wrap), amusement dancing in his eyes. 
You cleared your throat, suddenly cursing yourself for even getting him a gift. This was weird, right? Sure, you guys were friends but not i’ll-buy-you-gifts type of friends. You’ve killed people together before, for Christ's sake. “A little birdie told me it was your birthday..” he raised a blond eyebrow at that and you caught a movement of where his mouth would be, the material of his balaclava shifting. Did he just smile?
“Was this birdie Scottish, by any chance?” trying to ignore the way his gruff voice affected you, you chuckled instead, crossing your arms over your chest, trying to ignore the goosebumps on your skin. “Don’t get too mad at him, I basically blackmailed him to tell me,” you muttered out the last part but he shot you a look and you knew he’d heard you. Oh, well.
Ghost decided to ignore the flip of his stomach at the thought of you wanting to know his birthdate. It was stupid.…Right?
“Are you gonna open it or what?” That brought his attention back to his gift, and you watched as his hands peeled the duck tape off the paper gently, as if he didn’t want to rip it. A more forceful tug on the other side of the box ripped the edge slightly and he clicked his tongue, muttering under his breath. Once the edges were off, he placed his pointer and middle finger under the wrapping paper, and slid it across, successfully getting the rest of the duck tape off. 
Why were you holding your breath? Why was this weirdly erotic? Why couldn’t he have ugly hands? 
You lost focus, the rest of the room blurring together as you followed the movements of his hands. They were so big, and the veins that decorated them were so pretty, and you really wanted his hands against your throat--
A huffed out chuckle brought you back, and you blinked rapidly, noticing that he’d already opened the box, currently holding his gift in his hands. He looked up at you, proudly raising it towards you and you couldn’t help the grin that overtook your face.
His palm held a white cup that looked awfully small in his hands, with ‘#1 Asshole’ written on it with black bold letters. “Woow, it suits you, LT.” you bit your lip, trying not to laugh and he let out another huff, shaking his head slightly. “I noticed that Soap was stealing the cup you like to use, so I thought I'd get you your own..” your eyes dropped to his hands once more, noticing how he was circling the rim of it with his finger. You inhaled sharply, “Not that it will stop him from stealing this one, he’s a menace-”
“He won't.” your eyes snapped to his, noticing he was already looking at you. There was a promise in his words that sent a shiver down your spine and you shifted on your feet. “Well.. I better get going,” you smiled at him, walking towards the door, pausing next to him and letting your hand touch his arm, feeling him immediately tense under your touch. Right. You let go of him just as quickly, muttering a rushed “Happy birthday, Simon.” and practically running out the door. 
<3
When Ghost went to his room, he placed the mug on his bedside table gently, making sure the writing faced his bed. Once he’d changed and finally took his balaclava off, he laid on his bed and turned to his side to stare at it again. He stared, and stared and all he could think about was you. He couldn’t stop the stupid grin plastered on his face even if he tried to, mentally cursing himself for acting so awkward in front of you. Feeling his eyes start to close, he mumbled a “Thank you,”. The thanks he owed you. The thanks he would have said to you if he wasn’t frozen on the spot by the slightest physical contact from you. 
<3
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2023 © l13 | Do not steal, copy, edit, translate or re-post any of my works.
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firehouse-buck · 10 months
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hottie hotchner - aaron hotchner
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title: hottie hotchner
summary: during a conversation with your team, you let it slip that you find your boss very attractive. little did you know that said boss could hear every sordid detail.
pairing: aaron hotchner x f!reader
word count: 856
warning(s): it gets a little suggestive towards the end but nothing too explicit
a/n: i honestly didn’t think i would finish this as fast as i did. hope you guys enjoy this round’s winner of pick my next fic!
When you accepted the position for Administrative Liaison for the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI, you definitely had some reservations about what the agents would be like. Most of the jobs that you’ve had were assistant jobs, and it’s safe to say that you had encountered your fair share of asshole bosses along the way. 
That being said, the agents of the BAU were nothing at all like you expected. You walk into the building on your first day, and you are greeted by a taller, slender blonde woman. She reaches her hand out with a warm smile. A smile that says she’s genuinely excited for you to be there. “You must be Y/N. I’m Agent Jennifer Jareau of the Behavioral Analysis Unit.” You shake her hand. “But you can call me JJ.”
You return her smile and let go of her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, JJ.”
“Follow me, and I’ll introduce you to the rest of our team.”
You nod, and she leads you through glass double doors and a maze of desks that she calls the bullpen. The two of you go up a small staircase to a conference room with a circular table, and six heads turn when she opens the door. Sitting around the table are a tall, lanky man with brown hair that curls just below his ears, a taller, bald man with biceps that look as big as your head, a brightly-colored blonde woman holding a remote, a dark-haired woman with an air of confidence that could tear apart your entire being before even blinking, an older man that exudes a grandfatherly energy, and… oh. You stop at the last person–a man that looks just a bit older than you with dark hair and eyes that could bring you to your knees without having to ask. 
“Guys,” JJ starts. “This is Y/N, and she is our new Administrative Liaison.” 
You hold up your hand and do a shy, awkward wave. “Hi.”
JJ points to the lanky man and goes from left to right introducing everyone to you. “This is Spencer, Derek, Penelope, Emily, Rossi, and our Unit Chief, Hotch.”
Unit Chief? That means… Christ,  you haven’t even gotten to your second day yet, and you already want to fuck your boss.
Hotch stands and holds his hand out to you much like JJ did, his smile a lot more understated than hers. “Welcome to the team, Y/N.”
His hands are warm. “Thank you, sir.”
He turns to the rest of the team. “Alright, let’s get started.”
It takes a little while to get used to your new job, but you soon find your footing and nestle into the spot the team–your team–has created for you. The eight of you have become like a family. A big, dysfunctional family. You trust each other with your lives and your deepest, darkest secrets.
That is the only way you can explain how you ended up in this predicament.
“Hotch?” Derek asks, his face a mix of confusion and surprise. “Really, pretty girl? Hotch?”
You narrow your eyes the tiniest bit at him. “What’s wrong with Hotch?” 
“Nothing’s wrong with Hotch, sweets,” Penelope amends. “We just… weren’t expecting him to be your answer.”
“Yeah. We thought you would go for someone a little closer to your age.” Derek points at Spencer. “Like Pretty Boy.”
You shake your head. “I have a type, and as much as I adore Spencer, he is not it.”
“And Hotch is your type?” 
You nod. “He’s a DILF. I like DILFs.”
Emily nearly spits the water she’d just taken a sip of out of her nose. “Oh, my God. Never say that again.”
“Never once in my days of working here did I ever think that I would hear Hotch and DILF in the same sentence,” JJ says. 
“Neither did I,” says a voice from behind you. Fuck my life. You turn and come face to face with none other than your boss and the aforementioned DILF. 
“Hotch,” you breathe.
He points over his shoulder at his office door. “My office.”
Hanging your head, you nod. “Yes, sir.”
The two of you head up to his office, and once the door is locked and the blinds are closed, he turns to face you. “Y/N, we talked about this,” Hotch says, sighing.
You shrug like you see no problem with the situation. “What was I supposed to say? You are a DILF, Aaron.” 
His stony facade drops and a shy smile pulls at his lips. “I just didn’t expect you to say that, especially in front of the team.”
You bring your arms up and wrap them loosely around your boyfriend’s neck. “Blame Derek. He asked.”
A laugh bubbles out of him, and he leans down to press a soft kiss to your lips. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” you tell him. “You know, for a group of highly-skilled profilers, they still haven’t figured out we’re together yet.”
“I’m sure they will,” he tells you before moving his lips to your neck. “Especially after tonight.”
Your only response is a giggle.
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